


In Five Days

by Septi_Spidey_Plier_Pool



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Cop! Mark, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Game Developer! Jack, Happy Ending?, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, My First Fanfic, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other minor characters - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Self Confidence Issues, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates - AU, Suspense, Tragedy?, True Love, a pinch of mystery, criminal partners, guns and knifes and stuff like that, idk really, medium burn??, mild violence later on, probably slow burn, wristwatches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9578390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Septi_Spidey_Plier_Pool/pseuds/Septi_Spidey_Plier_Pool
Summary: "I have five days to make him fall in love with me. Five days to prove I'm his soulmate. And then... he'll let me stay.""I have five days to make sure he's entertained, and okay. Five days to show he doesn't need me. Then, he'll leave."Jack has waited his whole life to find his soulmate.Mark has hoped his whole life never to meet his.What happens when one trusts fate and the other tries to avoid it?All I can say is... fate doesn't like to be ignored.*Chapter 14 is anewchapter as of 2/19/18*





	1. Wristwatches and Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is my first fanfic! Some of you may know me from commenting on other Septiplier fanfics as Rachel Murray, though probably not. 
> 
> As this is my first time writing fanfiction on this site and for Septiplier in general, I'd love some constructive criticism and comments! No hate please, my little heart can't take it, but I don't want ghost readers if I can help it.
> 
> (To answer the obvious question: Yes, technically I stole the title from How to Lose a Guy in 10 days, but I swear it's different... really)
> 
> I'm an amateur writer soooo, this may not be the best but it's what I got! I hope you enjoy it still! xx

Jack was never one to test fate, even when it proved difficult to trust. Like the time when he woke up late for an exam in high school and had to walk three miles to take it because his car just so happened to break down that day—Jack didn’t even question it, believing there had to be some ‘higher force’ dictating these certain types of situations.

Not everyone in his life was as trusting in fate, take his parents for example, they weren’t soulmates, but the watches on their wrists were both still active. It’s not that they didn’t believe in fate, but they didn’t trust that they might not die alone if they didn’t find someone, anyone, fast. They married in their early twenties, had Jack in their third year of marriage, but they fought constantly.

Jack always believed it was because they’d never met their soulmates, blaming their unhappiness on the ticking watches that they chose to ignore. His father still had years left on his and his mother had about twice as much as his father, so he couldn’t blame them for not wanting to wait. But when Jack got his watch put on during his first birthday, which is when every child got theirs, he had roughly over 25 years to go.

While the majority of the people from the schools he went to had typically around 14-19, it didn’t make Jack any less confident that he could wait, not wanting to end up in a marriage like his own folks. Of course, there were those that only had a few short years, meeting in their second grade classes or on vacations with their parents to Disneyland or whatnot.

A part of Jack was jealous that he couldn’t grow up knowing his soulmate, but the other part was happy he wouldn’t have to wait to his fifties. Though most of the world all accepted that soulmates existed long before the watch technology, Jack pitied those whose watches hadn’t started yet or those that had stopped.

His parents explained to him in middle school that watches that never started were those that were either broken or those that signified their soulmates hadn’t been born or reached their first birthday yet. If it was broken then you would never know when you’d meet your soulmate, which didn’t seem appealing to Jack. And if they had stopped, which was even worse, it meant that their soulmate had died. Everyone only got one soulmate, but although Jack trusted fate, he couldn’t help but wonder that in the next 25 years something might happen to his.

When it got to Jack’s 26th birthday he knew he was close to meeting his soulmate, but that didn’t stop him from living his life. He trusted fate enough to let him go on doing what he’d always do, and two month after his birthday he had plans on going to America.

Ever since getting out of college with a degree in game development (because who was he kidding about his first idea to go into hotel management) Jack had been working as a game developer for a major company and he was finally nearing his annual vacation time. Ireland was great but Jack was just itching to leave ever since his best friend, and coworker, Felix had told him about his travels from Sweden and the U.S.

Jack didn’t have any family to visit in CA, because both his parents were Irish, but everyone he ever met who had been to California said it was beautiful. Yep, the good old west coast was where he was heading and he knew very well his soulmate would be there because that’s how he figured fate worked.

As Jack settled in for the night in his dark flat, he contemplated what their face would look like, yet he could never picture it. He tried till the point of a headache to imagine some unique feature, something significant to look out for when he got to LA, but nothing came. The last thought on his mind before sleep overtook him was, _I wonder if they’re trying to imagine me too?_

\--

Mark was not the first person to have little to zero faith in fate, but he was one of the adamant ones. He would give his friends a million excuses why, but the truth of the matter had all to do with his parents.

His mother and father were soulmates when they met, but they fought, constantly, day in and day out. It wasn’t odd behavior to Mark at first when he was little, but it became apparent how strange it was by how much his friends talked about their happy families and just how much their parents were in love.

Mark blamed fate for their unhappiness, and his distrust in fate only grew when his parents eventually split up. And to make it all the more confusing for Mark, his dad had gotten married again to someone who wasn’t his soulmate and they were happy.

For years this haunted Mark’s thoughts like the plague, because divorces between soulmates was at an all time low, less than .00003% in America. It was so very rare that his own parents were recorded on the news, creating scandals as to if soulmate watches were fake and out to deceive consumers. After a while the rumors died down, but it still stayed with Mark with every passing day, even after the passing of his father.

And if Mark was being honest, he wished he didn’t have a destined soulmate. All it caused was drama between himself and people he dated through the years. It was always the same case, either they had met their soulmates while they were dating or they just didn’t have a connection. It frustrated Mark beyond belief, but he refused to give up on finding someone on his own.

There were some days when Mark dreamed of ripping off his watch and just finding someone that clicked with him on his _own_ terms. But he knew that if he was ever to remove the watch it would have to be done surgically, as it was embedded in his wrist since he was one, and the price to take it off for someone who hasn’t found their soulmate yet was very high.

So, with a defeated and rather dejected heart, he attempted many different fields at the University of Cincinnati, almost becoming an engineer before finally dropping out. But, with the memory of his father in mind who was apart of the military, he decided on going into law enforcement. The thought seemed way out place for his interests, because he was more into computers, video games, and even _space_ than he could ever be into a police job, but he decided it was a more practical job. And perhaps one to keep his mind off his watch that signaled he’d meet his soulmate when he was just shy of being 27.

When he finally got out of college after his second try, he was surprising at the top of his class and readily offered many positions in other states, but Mark wanted nothing more than to leave his fate ridden past behind him as soon as possible. Deciding to move to L.A. two years before he was supposed to meet his soulmate, he quickly put into action to ignore the watch at all costs to try to find a happiness outside of “destiny”.

As his 27th birthday neared he had become quite the successful cop, close to becoming a detective, but that was only the bright side of it all. His girlfriend of two years named Amy left him, not for her soulmate, but because she was afraid of falling too much in love with someone who was not.

He was left devastated and unhappy, having already planned on spending the rest of his life with the petite blonde, but that’s not what angered or saddened him the most. It was the fact that, even though he loved her, there was still always something missing, some hole in his chest she could never fill up if she tried. It made him think that if his parents had only tried harder to stay together then they would eventually have been fine. But Mark was still determined to block out fate in favor of creating his own path, no matter the nagging feeling he had inside. He was in the most sickening pit of denial and he was not about to let another failed relationship fix that.

Trying to fall asleep in the small house he now only shared with his dog, Chica, he could feel the immense loneliness start to creep in. And even though he hadn’t taken a good look at his watch in a couple years, he had memorized the time nearly perfectly. It was roughly two months until he would meet his soulmate and he was beyond unready for it, hoping fate would mess up and maybe his watch would glitch to show they were born in a different century or something. But no, he knew that wouldn’t happen, and as he shut his tired eyes about to be engulfed in sleep, the last thought to pass his addled mind was, _I hope I never meet them _.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve decided that since Jack’s birthday is in February and Mark’s is in June, they will meet roughly around two months after Jack’s 26th birthday, which is in April of 2016 and is also two months before Mark’s 27th birthday. So they will both be 26 when they meet... I mean *cough, cough* we don't know if they're soulmates yet, right?!
> 
> Any who, I swear there will be dialogue in the next chapter, I just wanted to set up the scene and shit since it's an AU. I really hoped you guys liked it, I know this first chapter isn't the most interesting thing, but it's a start!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always highly encouraged and appreciated, so if you liked this I'd love to know! <3


	2. A Phone Call and Travel Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack packs for L.A. and talks a bit with his BSF, Best Swedish Friend, about who his soulmate could possibly be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for making me feel so welcome to be a writer for this fandom! I'm really super happy right now to know people not only commented but some even bookmarked my story! :3
> 
> It seems so surreal, anyway, enjoy this next chapter! xx

As Jack was packing for his two week trip to America his phone went buzzing off on his bed. He paused, looking at the I.D. to see it was Felix, and halted in his packing to sit down and answer the blonde.

“Whatcha want? You know I got some packing to do.”

“Don’t smart me, _Jack Mcloughlin_ , I only wanted to say I was gonna miss you,” Felix whined, obvious mischief behind his words.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah right, you know I’m going to miss ya but you’re only callin’ so you can blabber on more about what you think my soulmate is gonna look like.”

“So what if I want to theorize about my virgin best friend finally getting the D?”

Jack almost choked on air. _“What?”_ Felix had suggested many, _many_ things about his soulmate, but never _that_.

He could tell Felix was trying not to laugh on the other end of the line by the way he was silent for a couple more beats. 

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you didn’t even entertain the thought that your soulmate could be a guy!”

Jack scoffed. “Trying to figure out what my soulmate might look like is one thing, but trying to pinpoint their gender as the opposite of mine? Really Felix?!” Jack was beyond flustered now, blushing furiously and he could bet Felix knew this by the way he almost slipped up a laugh again.

“So what? You said it yourself, you don’t even know your own sexuality!"

“Most people don’t know their preferences before finding their soulmate ya doof,” He pointed out with a frown, not liking at all where this was going.

“ _Sure,_ whatever you say," Felix drew out, "but I know for certain that it has to be a dude.”

Jack frowned again. “Why do ya say that?”

He could practically feel Felix rolling his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? A man so dainty as you is soooo meant for a man.”

Jack only blushed more, borderline angry in his tone, “Are you trying to call me a _twink_?” He’s been called so before by homophobic men, but even though it wasn’t entirely unappealing to him to be labeled as such, even if he’d never admit it, it was still a bit degrading in his eyes.

“You said it, not me,” Felix teased, only to receive the silent treatment for a good thirty seconds before relenting. “I was only kidding, Jack! C’mon, humor me! I just want to see you meet your soulmate as soon as possible is all.”

Jack huffed, still a _tad_ offended but he came back off his high horse nonetheless. “I know, I know," he sighed, "I want to meet them soon too.”

“How much longer does your watch say again?”

Jack glanced down at his right wrist. “About 10 more days.”

He heard a whoop come from the other end. “Yes! You get to meet them in America—in LA of all places too. Maybe they’ll be a stripper!” Felix oohed. “Kinky!” 

Jack face palmed, gritting his teeth. “They’re _not_ going to be a stripper, fate wouldn’t be that cruel,” he paused, “On second thought anything other than you would be better.”

Felix mock gasped. “For shame! You wound me, but you know I’m already taken for life.” Felix had met his soulmate a year before, Marzia, a secretary at their company who came in from Italy. From what Jack could tell, they were as happy as can be. It struck a cord of longing in him for whoever he was meant for, wanting to know that kind of happiness.

“I know, poor Marzia has to put up with you for the rest of her life too," Jack teased. "Maybe fate isn’t always kind."

“Hey! Leave my lady out of this!” 

Jack laughed. “Whatever you say but that better mean you stop guessing my soulmate.”

Felix laughed fully back. “Nah, I just can’t wait to meet your soon-to-be husband.”

“Felix,” Jack warned, “I will hang up on you, besides I have to keep packing.” He gazed at the still thrown around clothes yet to be put in his suitcase.

“Seannn,” Felix groaned, “Take me with you!”

Jack laughed on the other end of the phone again. “Don’tcha dare call me by my fookin’ birth name you Swedish bastard, ya know I would if you had the time off.”

“Fine, but you have to promise me to take pictures of the man—or woman, though I doubt it—as soon as you meet them and send it to me!”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, okay, now leave me alone!” They shared one more laugh before saying their goodbyes and hanging up, leaving Jack to dwell on the rest of his packing and the previous debatable conversation.

It’s not that Jack was against being with a man, but although soulmates could be both opposite and same genders, straight couples was still the norm. He’d witnessed bullying to do with gay or lesbian couples and it always made him fear the same outcome if the person he was going to be paired with for life was a man.

That fear was enough for him to wish and pray to fate that they would be a girl and then he wouldn’t even have to wonder if he was gay, bisexual, straight or whatever. He would just have her and that would be that, because soulmates divorcing was the most unheard of thing possible, so there would be no point to think of anyone else but that one person.

Trying to quiet his thoughts for the rest of the day, Jack peered outside his apartment window to see the sun setting and he thought it was one of the most breathtaking sights he’s ever seen. Especially since in Ireland they often have such blasted poor weather, seeing the clear sky devoid of clouds was a spectacular sight. 

For a moment he thought of what color might his soulmate’s eyes be, perhaps green like the pastures outside the cabin he used to live in? Or maybe blue like his own but prettier? Jack didn’t have the best self-confidence in his own looks, but whatever color of eyes his soulmate held had to be better than his own, he thought. Though he still couldn’t picture their face, neither green or blue seemed to fit, but he didn’t want to ruin it by trying to guess like Felix so often tried.

He’d rather it be a surprise, a big grand thing when he saw them. He didn’t know what to expect but whatever fate had cooked up for him couldn’t be wrong and he’d love the person regardless, he decided. _I’ll_ _welcome_ _them_ _with_ _open_ _arms_ , _no_ _matter_ _any_ _differences_ _that_ _might_ _be_ _present_ , he thought. Being soulmates had to count for something, right? In Jack’s mind, even if they weren’t perfect, he’d think they’d be. 

And that’s all that really mattered, it would be Jack’s happily ever after for the rest of his life as well as theirs. He trusted fate with all he had, and he hoped whoever wore a watch with the same time as he did, did too.

 _I_ _bet_ _they’re_ _just_ _as_ _anxious_ _and_ _as_ _curious_ _as_ _I_ _am_ _right_ _now_ , he mused with a smile. Jack hadn’t dated a single soul his whole life because of his soulmate, because of the mere thought that there was someone exclusively for him. There had been people who had been interested in him, sure, and he had almost felt tempted to accept.

The closest he came to ever dating someone was in his first year of being a game developer. She was one of the people from the rival companies in Denmark who came to check out the competition, and she caught Jack’s eye so suddenly that he looked down at his watch to see if she was his soulmate. Safe to say she wasn’t, the beauty with the sandy blonde hair was meant for someone else and even though Jack came to know the girl, Signe, to a higher extent, he still couldn’t get past the fact that they weren’t meant to be. 

They left on good terms, of course, but being friends was out of the question for her because in the short time of their friendship she had fallen for him but he willed himself not to do the same. In all truthfulness, he didn’t regret not going out with her, even though Felix urged him to enjoy time without a soul mate, Jack found it pointless.

The only thing that frightened him now was the possibility of his own soulmate being with another right at that moment. But, surely with 10 days left on the clock, they’d be just as exciting for meeting the stranger who they would be with forever, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know they haven't met yet, but I promise they will lock eyes in the fourth chapter!
> 
> I may have planned this a little too much, but if there is anything you can call me it's efficient! I don't know when I'll post the next chapter, it's almost all written up at this point but I'm planning in between the next few days. I just wanted this chapter out as soon as possible because it's already done.
> 
> Anyways, please leave a comment what you thought about it and if you haven't already, perhaps a kudos? Thanks! <3
> 
>  **Sidenote:** Jack's flight will be leaving the next day, which will then mean it's 9 days until he meets his soulmate. And since he'll be there for two weeks, what is 14-9? ;)


	3. Another Phone Call and Police Patrol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark makes himself dinner alone, chats with a couple goof ball old friends, and patrols through the lonely night contemplating and shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I know how to do summaries right, maybe I'll just stop doing them, idk. 0-0 I'm seriously just a goofy goober.
> 
> I love the overwhelming support this has gotten after just two chapters, thank you guys so much for the comments, I love getting to talk to other Septiplier shippers!
> 
> (BTW, I'm so happy that Jack's 27 now!! I'm so fucking happy for him)
> 
> Now unto this new chapter! xx

Cooking his mother’s famous dumplings one night, Mark knew it was borderline depressing to be making such an over-the-top meal for himself. He found himself imagining there was company he was expecting to share this with, but as he set the single plate out on the dining room table, it hit him how alone he really was since Amy had moved out.

The relationship had obviously been serious, after two years what else would there to be to expect? He hadn’t gone so far as to buy a ring for her, but he couldn't say the thought hadn't at one point crossed his mind. And yet, no matter how much time passed it never seemed like the _right_ time. Now, he only wished he had done it just to keep her from leaving.

Sighing, he headed back into the kitchen, adjusting the knob on the stove to keep the water from boiling over. He watched the the pot return to a simmer when his cellphone on the side counter went off. Setting the finished dumplings beside the sink, he took the phone into the living room to answer Bob who was calling him long distance.

“Hey Bob, long time no see! You should call more often," Mark spoke, trying to sound cheerful but likely failing. "How's it been?” He knew he had to tell his friends at some point that he had broken up with his now ex-girlfriend but the idea of doing so only added weight on his heavy heart.

“Hey Mark, I know, it’s been so long! I've been pretty good, but how are you? You don't sound too great.” Bob sounded much more cheerful, but somewhat worried. Mark cursed his inability to mask his emotions.

He sighed openly over the phone. “I can’t keep anything from you, can I? Um, this may come as bit of a shock to you but—”

Bob finished for him, “You’ve broken up with your girlfriend, haven’t you?”

“Well, _I_ didn’t end it, but she did, anyway, how did you know what I was going to say?”

Now it was Bob’s turn to sigh. “It’s really not that shocking Mark, she wasn’t your—”

This time Mark interrupted, rather heatedly, “Soulmate, I know Bob, you didn’t have to say it… I know.” He closed his eyes briefly resting his head on the arm of the couch, imagining Bob’s guilty expression.

“I’m sorry Mark, but you know how I feel about soulmates, even if you refuse to believe it.”

Mark waved it off, even though Bob couldn’t see it. “I get it, I do, but I’m not as believing into this whole ‘fate thing’ as you are, you know? It doesn’t even make sense how someone could be ‘your other half’ or any of that other mumbo jumbo.”

Bob was a bit silent after this and Mark knew why, he had already found his soulmate, a girl named Mandy and they were very happily married. Mark didn’t want to rain on his parade or anything, but he couldn’t help feeling like having soulmates was rubbish.

There was talking on the other line before either said anything again and it wasn’t Bob.

“Is someone else there with you?” Mark asked, hoping he could move past their previous discussion.

Bob finally spoke up, “Oh yeah, it’s Wade, he came over a few hours ago, do you want to talk to him too?”

“Yeah, the more the merrier,” he tried to laugh but it came out hollow even with the joy at being able to talk to both of his friends from back home.

“Ok, I’m just gonna put the phone on speaker real quick, yep, there,” Bob finished.

Then Wade finally piped up, a bit reluctantly, “So when did you guys break up?”

“Uh, less than four months ago,” Mark bit out, the words tasted like poison on his tongue, “She didn't want to love someone who wasn't her… _soulmate_.” Just the word alone made Mark's blood freeze and boil at the same time.

There was another bout of silence and he knew clearly what they were thinking, _would_ _you_ _blame_ _her?_ And Mark couldn’t blame her, not really, even with his own doubt in fate. She wanted what the world told her was destiny. And though he tried to make her stay he eventually let her go, knowing he couldn’t stand in her way of what she thought was ‘true happiness.’

Wade spoke again, echoing Bob’s words, “I’m sorry Mark.”

“I’m fine,” He ground out, suddenly wishing he didn’t pick up the phone.

“No you’re not,” Bob said, “But you will be, soon, I promise. Just give it time, you’ll get over her and someday you’ll find the girl or guy of your dreams.”

Mark cringed at what he said but didn’t argue, choosing his own silence.

“Do you know when you’ll meet them?” Wade questioned softly, trying to ease the blow.

Mark never shared the time when he’d meet his soulmate, in fact he’d kept his right wrist covered by multiple wristbands and bracelets to keep others from knowing even though he couldn’t forget.

But, deciding it couldn’t hurt, he told them for the first time. “Don’t overreact but, in the next 10 days.” His gut twisted at the admission and he heard the shocked gasps that followed from his friends on the other line.

“That’s- that’s great!” Bob said, trying not to set him off again with too much enthusiasm, but he could tell he was without a doubt over the moon for him.

“I’m sure they’ll be wonderful, Mark, really, just give them a chance,” Wade told him, sensing his struggle. It took everything for Mark not to snap at Wade, it wasn’t his fault for his sudden anger, plus Wade had already found his soulmate in his fiancee Molly so he was also a true believer in the system.

“Okay,” Mark lied, knowing very well he had no plan of giving this mystery person a chance, no matter what the watch stuck on his wrist said. He hoped to get through it as painlessly as possible, if it even came to meeting them which he still wasn’t so convinced of. He would let them down gently and be done with it, never to look at their face again. But he wasn’t about to tell his friends that. “I’ll give them a chance, alright? Now I have to go, I just made dinner and I kinda want to lay down for a while.”

He didn’t usually part with his friends this way, it was rude and he knew it but he was having an off day and this phone call was only making it worse.

“Of course,” Bob answered. “We’re just a phone call away if you need us,” Wade added.

Mark just nodded to himself before they all said their farewells and he was finally able to end the conversation once and for all.

Picking himself back up from the couch he went back to set up dinner to find he had lost his appetite and instead decided to go out patrolling even though it was his day off.

Getting in his cruiser with an empty stomach still didn’t urge a hunger for serving justice but at least it was an activity he could do to focus on finding criminals with. He worked mainly on stopping drug dealers and speed violators, but in a year or so he’d most likely be a detective finally working on homicide cases instead.

Cruising through the city he found L.A. to be strangely devoid of crime that night, which was unusual but regardless he set out in motion through the downtown area and into what was known as the ghetto, the poorer side of town. Although Mark was a huge skeptic in soulmates, his heart was twice as big as California and it hurt to see all the people in such impoverished places. That’s why he often donated what he could to charity, which was a lot even though all he had was a policeman’s salary. 

Then for a brief moment, a thought that took him quite by surprise was, _what_ _if_ _my_ _soulmate_ _is_ _living_ _in_ _a_ _place_ _like_ _here?_

It was a thought that made him mad, and admittedly not just because it was an unwanted thought about a person he wanted nothing to do with but because he didn’t want that person to suffer through poverty. It created a burden on his mind and heart that he couldn’t erase and it only proved to further upset him to the point where he realized if he were ever to meet his soulmate then they’d have to figure something out.

_I’ll_ _get_ _them_ _situated_ _somewhere_ _nice,_ he decided, _make_ _sure_ _they’re_ _comfortable,_ _happy,_ _and_ _that_ _they_ _understand_ _that_ _although_ _I_ _don’t_ _want_ _to_ _be_ _with_ _them,_ _that_ _life_ _isn’t_ _all_ _about_ _having_ _a_ _soulmate._

The thoughts were satisfied for a moment, but inside he knew it felt a bit off, a bit wrong. But it had been decided and Mark could be a very stubborn person if he set his mind to something. And the last thing Mark wanted was to be with a random stranger for the rest of his life, soulmate or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me! I know I'm taking this slow, but this story is my little baby and I want to make it last. Besides, patience is a virtue my dear padawan. All good fanfiction come to those that wait and all that other jazz, or at least I think that's how the saying goes...? :P
> 
> Please let me know what you think of this! I promise they'll see each other eye to eye in the next chapter, but I can promise nothing else. And again, thank you for each bookmark, kudos, comment, etc. It makes me burst with happiness and I will interact with each of you who comments of course! Bye-bye guys! <3
> 
> **Sidenote:** **Here's** **a** **gif** **for** **you!**  
>  **For** **those** **that** **like** **this** **story** **-**  
>  https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-pn--Zhe44jA/VtuQ8NcoVTI/AAAAAAAAB8k/qISRGOcStTk/w800-h800/tumblr_nm71s9gSum1unt77ro1_400.gif  
>  **For** **those** **that** **hate** **this** **story** **-** https://38.media.tumblr.com/b3d7c739cfba360be621b5c0fdafbe39/tumblr_inline_o0q7g5kea91tklwib_500.gif


	4. The Bluest and the Brownest Eyes They Ever Saw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've spared mercy on all your souls, this chapter is safe from tears! Read forth and weep none! The next chapter though? Not so much...
> 
> You guys are my rock! Like literally, I'm tied to you guys at the bottom of a river and I'm drowning in Septiplier fanfiction, _thanks a lot._
> 
> Now please comment at the end if this chapter is satisfactory to your needs of a good "meeting". _It's in quotation marks for a reason._ You've been warned. xx

Jack had been honestly having the time of his life for the past nine days in LA, it was hard to think of think of anything else when there was so much to do and see. At the moment he was driving a black car, a rental, his entire time here. In the time he spent in California he came to realize how huge just one city in it was, every part of it, and right now he was on the highway to another part of town where he planned on eating a meal before heading back to his hotel for the rest of the day. 

He was having such a great time, in fact, seeing all there was to see for over a week that he’d completely forgotten about his watch until it suddenly beeped on his wrist, making Jack’s blue eyes widen as he risked a glance to the red numbers. _Five minutes_ , it read, causing Jack’s heart to skip a beat and his head to swim.

And without even giving it a second thought he quickly pressed his foot to the gas pedal, gradually speeding up with an anticipation foreign to him, until now, running through his veins.

 _It’s finally here_ , he thought giddily, _I’m actually gonna meet the girl of my dreams..._

All past thoughts of never meeting ‘the one’ that his parents had instilled in him flew from his mind as if they were never there, and his stomach twisted and turned almost sickly to the point where it was getting harder to keep the smile off his face.

Jack had never been this hyped up for anything in a long time, muttering a string of Irish curses as he passed a road sign with the speed limit of 55 mph written on it when he was already gaining a speed of 65.

“Shite,” he muttered under his breath but didn’t slow down, every few seconds taking his eyes off from the road to peer down at his watch. _3 minutes and 49 seconds left._

Attempting to keep his cool, wiping the sudden sweat from his brow, he noticed that town had to at least be another few minutes away. But that fact didn’t phase him because fate was never wrong and it trumped whatever doubt was beginning to creep up on him as he pressed on the gas pedal harder till he was at a steady speed of 70.

Suddenly Jack heard sirens go off behind him and he almost slowed down if it hadn’t have been for his beeping watch signaling he was about to meet the stranger who would change his whole world.

Instead of slowing down Jack made the rather dumb decision to speed up, hoping to make it to his soulmate before the cop got him, because at that point he wouldn’t mind getting a ticket if he had his true-love-to-be with him. _God, when did I become such a sap?_

“Pull over now.” Jack heard the transmission through a radio from the cop car. “Pull over now or you are under arrest.”

And that was enough for Jack to reconsider easing up the speed. _She wouldn’t like it if I got arrested,_ Jack thought, _plus, I’m not even in Ireland, I don’t want my visa revoked_. Quickly Jack pulled over and waited for the inevitable, not even bothering to glance back at the cop car as the blue and red lights were evidently reflecting off his car.

Jack shot a look at his still bleeping watch and it showed the countdown of one minute. He swiftly swept his eyes among the highway but saw no cars slowing down or pulling over and he momentarily thought if perhaps his watch wasn’t saying the correct time. Could this kind of technology really be wrong? He felt the doubt from earlier come back.

But the timer wasn’t slowing as he heard the cop car’s door open loudly. _40 seconds._

And then he heard the door slam shut, but no footsteps were made to approach Jack’s car yet, though it only barely crossed his mind staring at his watch in horror. _30 seconds._

How could this be? The highway had cars for sure but none even looked like they were about to stop driving for little old him. It was just Jack and the— _20 seconds._

 _Oh my god the cop…_ Jack’s breath caught, but he didn’t turn around, seemingly frozen in his seat. _The cop is my soulmate…they have to be. 10 seconds._

Then the footsteps started up— _9 seconds_ —and Jack stumbled quickly to grab his license and registration from the car’s compartment. _8 seconds._ The footsteps sounded angry, but Jack could only guess it was— _7 seconds_ —because he had sped. Then as just about as nervous as ever— _6 seconds_ —he rolled his window down with shaking hands. _5 seconds._

“Do you know why you’ve been pulled over?” _4 seconds_ —a deep baritone voice asked, rather gruff and steely. _3 seconds._

Jack sighed— _2 seconds_ —taking every last bit of courage he had left and looked up— _1 second_ —at the brownest eyes he’d ever saw. _0 seconds._

\--

If there was one thing Mark hated almost as much as people talking about soulmates, it was being on highway duty. It was one of the worst jobs he had to do as an officer, and yes, that meant desk work was better, though tedious at least it didn’t make him rage like when he played a game called _I Am Bread_.

Another thing about highways was there were always violators day or night. Sometimes he had to do random drug searches, which people always hated, and other times he had to pull over shady cars. It was the same deal every time, the biggest hope was that he wouldn’t have to put anyone in jail that day. All that meant was more paperwork and a grumpy, maybe murderous, person in the backseat of his car, which was never much fun.

He usually had a partner, but Ken was busy celebrating his engagement to his soulmate Mary. Mark was of course invited but he politely declined, seeing highway duty as a step up to two people fawning over each other in victory of another soulmate bond. It made him sick and Mark wondered when he had become such a cynic. It was beyond being bitter about it now, Mark knew today was the day he’d meet his _you-know-who_ , and he wasn’t the least bit looking forward to it.

He muted his watch in preparation, which he was grateful for since he didn’t know precisely what time he’d meet them. In all truthfulness, he actually hoped he’d pass them by without a second thought and come home to realize he had already seen them without having any ‘magical moment’, like other soulmate couples claimed would happen most of the time.

Sitting back in his cruiser after being out here with his radar gun for hours, he took a small break to take a bite of his powdered donut. He would have laughed at the obvious stereotypical situation he was in but he was in too bad of a mood to even so much as blow out his nose in amusement.

Then out of the corner of his eye he saw a black car race to the side of where he was hiding behind a bush and he quickly aimed his radar at them. They were going 70 miles in a 55 mile zone.

"God damn speeders thinking they own the road,” Mark muttered under his breath, taking off after the vehicle, quickly matching their speed and turning on the siren.

But the person didn’t show any signs of slowing down, in fact they sped up a couple notches, only fueling Mark’s anger at not just the day but at this person’s stupidity. Having no more of this Mark grasped the radio walkie talkie in pursuit of the car.

“Pull over now,” Mark said into the intercom, “Pull over now or you are under arrest.”

That seemed to be enough for the black vehicle, as they slowed down and pulled over to the side, rather unhappily if Mark could depict so correctly. 

To say he hated his job was an understatement and now he was dealing with some hooligan who thought they were above the law. His heart might be big but at the moment he was pissed and all he had in mind was either giving a hefty ticket or putting the cuffs on whatever reckless driver lay in wait in that car.

He took a moment to jot down the car’s license plate and scan it through the database to find it was none other than a fucking rental. _Dammit, why couldn’t it just be some random Californian?_ Of course it was just speculation, but most people either had their own car or a took a taxi.

Mark sighed, because whether it was a foreigner or someone from out of town it only meant more paperwork when he got back to the department.

Next Mark loudly pushed his door open getting ready to question the driver in the black car only about seven yards in front of him, but then something seemed to swell in his heart bizarrely out of nowhere. It wasn’t a sick feeling, per say, but a mixture of exhilaration, dread, joy, and loathing all at once. The dread and loathing seemed to be symptoms of the much stronger, somehow natural, delight. 

His senses flooded with an unnatural warmth and serenity as he slammed the door shut and he wanted to keel over from the vast pressure these new feelings were putting on his judgement. He had never really had a nervous tick before, but now that the rage was seeping out of him he was filled with an overwhelming amount of fear.

 _Pull yourself together, Fischbach._ Shaking the emotions like the professional he was, Mark finally began to walk, step by angry step, leaving himself with less anger than he previously had as his feet hit the cement. 

Mark realized he was walking slower than necessary when already quite a few seconds had passed, but the feelings were still hovering over him like a grey cloud ready to rain. He then heard the quiet sound of the window rolling down from the black car as he neared the driver’s side, but had yet to get a glimpse of the driver. 

At long last stepping in front of the car door he looked down at the small notebook his hand held, saying rather steely, “Do you know why you’ve been pulled over?”

And just in time to hear a soft sigh at the height of all the foreign feelings roaring inside his heart, Mark looked down at the bluest eyes he’d ever saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did tell you they would see "eye to eye" in this chapter, did I not? :3  
> Okay... maybe they didn't 'officially' meet, but in the next chapter they will. _(Prepare for shit to hit the fan)_
> 
> Sunshine and rainbows are cute for a one shot, but this story is no one shot. Things are going to get sad before they either get worse or better. I've added new tags accordingly. Comment what you think? Please? _I'm desperate._
> 
> I loved reading your guy's comments before this, so here's just a huge thanks from me! <3
> 
>  **Sidenote: Here's a gif for you guys! NEW!**  
>  **If you like this story -**  
>  https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EXXN3rQeSDs/V2RhmVWhQ6I/AAAAAAAAEbE/zj2COXepKEYPgSrugeF3doeeUDLPyjPSA/w426-h305/16%2B-%2B1  
>  **If you hate this story -**  
>  https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/27/95/33/27953394f327a75a2844fe791912b913.jpg


	5. First Meetings are the Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit goes down hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **After I wrote this chapter I found the perfect song to listen to while reading it if you'd like: Andrew Belle - In My Veins**
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSYnOeO5rdk
> 
> Slow, slow, slow I go. I've come to the hefty conclusion that this is going to be a long ass story. I apologize. Not really. Shoot me, okay? I want this to be good and last and I hope y'all are ready to deal with me for a good amount of time for this is a slowww burn.
> 
> With that said, I love you all for even reading this to begin with and I hope this isn't a major disappointment for you all. 
> 
> Now, cue the anguish! xx

His eyes. He’s never seen such brown doe eyes before in his life. He didn’t think eyes like that existed, full of both warmth and knowledge, kindness and beauty. Looking into his eyes like that, he saw a million rich earthy tones in his chocolate orbs. Each shade of brown melting together as one to form the most picturesque set of eyes known to man. Jack never craved the color of mud so much. Were his eyes part Asian perhaps? They swirled like splendid coffee as the cop stared back at him with matching desire.

 _My soulmate’s a man...._ The thought crept up on him unwillingly, but despite the undeniable statement he didn’t have a care left in the world to worry over him being the same gender.

 _His hair!_ It was a fiery red of unkempt fluff mixed with raven locks. Next Jack noted his smoldering lips were a pale pink contrasting his tan skin in a rather attractive light and across his adonis chin was a closely shaven beard. Along with an equally closely shaven mustache and nicely angled cheekbones. 

Jack could stare at this face all day, never so taken in by another person’s features before. It caused a wave of shock to roll through his body and he quickly came to his senses about how random and awkward this would have to be, staring at someone this intently, to anyone other than the one meant for him.

_He's the one..._

“Hi,” Jack finally decided to speak, though his voice seemed small even to himself.

Expecting a similar, maybe even more confident answer from the man, he was again shocked to see him stumble back as if struck. His once desire filled eyes dimmed and a heavy frown weighed on his lips. 

“H-hi,” he muttered back, and then he was silent. 

Regardless Jack beamed back at the voice, hearing the obvious American accent, but it didn’t sound quite like the other Californian tones. _Must not have been born in this state_ , he deducted. Jack was so excited at just this small bit of information. _I need more._ “You must be my-”

_“No, no, no, no!”_

But Jack wouldn’t be getting more, at least not right now as the raven haired soulmate of his shortly flew out of his sight, retreating back where he came. He didn’t even have the time to frown before it registered in his mind that the man was completely and utterly afraid. And as quickly as he left he saw the police car once behind him now whizzing through the thin traffic of the highway, soon out of the Irishman’s sight.

 _What just happened?_ Jack’s mind went blank of anything but the brown eyes he was just moments ago staring in. How could something so perfect like that change so quickly? He was scared… why? 

Jack frowned, his hands just laying numb on his lap, he didn’t know what to do with them, what to do with himself. _Do I chase after him or…?_

He didn’t understand it, why had he just.. Ran? Was Jack unattractive? Had he misread the look in those mocha eyes? No… it was there, a desire, a flame, a spark, a something. That couldn’t have been his imagination, could it? They were soulmates, Jack eyed his watch. Yes… the timer had stopped, _0:00_ , he had met him, it was _him._ But then why did he feel like this was only the beginning of a harrowing story? Of a long, tireless half-nightmare half-dream. What did fate have planned out for him…? This couldn’t be the end, surely.

Hands now back on the steering wheel Jack was unmoving, at war with his brain. _He was scared._ Was it the fact Jack was a man that scared him? Or, was he with someone else? _Oh god I hope not._

 _Or maybe he really does think I’m ugly… maybe that look of desire was just a way of hiding his blatant disgust._ Jack felt tears prick at the back of his eyes. _Now’s not the time to cry ya big baby._

He had always had emotional issues throughout his life and a deep-seated self-consciousness along with a fear of never being good enough. Sure, his parents were loving, but they ignored him pretty often as a child, always fighting, that he forgot their love sometimes. It wasn’t so much that he was riddled with anxiety, no that wasn’t him at all. But the self-image thing was something that plagued his mind daily, one of the major reasons he didn’t have many friends outside of his co-worker Felix. 

It didn’t help being an introvert, the only time his inner shell-less personality shined was in the work office when he was loud and proud of being the Irish-blooded green headed wonder of a game developer. Outside of work he was as quiet as could be, you wouldn’t have even recognized him if it wasn’t for his friendly and rather noticeable appearance. He liked to be on his own, and being in a foreign land he could step outside of his comfort zone for a while and be a new man to the strangers around him. But now… all at once he found his soulmate-- a man even-- and he never felt so exposed.

And he expected full acceptance, a clean slate, a new start, but all he got was fear…one quick look of clouded desire then crystal clear shock and terror from the one person who was supposed to welcome him with open arms. And the raven haired adonis was perfect, more than Jack thought he deserved. Now as tears trailed down his face in a stream of grief, he couldn’t help but wish to be someone different. Anything to make his soulmate want him, like him, one day _love him._

He felt his nose stuff up and he could only imagine the crying, red-faced mess he had become in a matter of minutes. The cop was probably miles and miles away from him at this point and wiping his still bleary eyes with his left watchless arm he pulled his car out back onto the highway. He knew he’d never be able to show his face in any restaurant, so he quickly turned on the next U-turn and drove back to the hotel.

 _Stupid, stupid child. If you ever see that man again it will only be to reject you._ Jack couldn’t deny his thoughts, it still took a lot of concentration on the road to fight back his ever growing tears. His eyes were almost too watery to drive, but he was determined to make it back in one piece unharmed… at least physically.

Once back in his room he ordered room service, knowing his wallet wouldn’t take a heavy dent from just a ham and cheese sandwich even in a four star hotel with food the price the laptops. Being a major game developer had it’s perks in his financial status, he’d have to admit. Flipping on the small T.V. in his room he thought back to the way the tan man’s eyes became wide like he just had a huge reality check after Jack spoke. And all that was on T.V. just so happened to be fucking soap operas full of sappy romantic bullshit that only made him feel worse. Hours ago he would have been happy to watch something like that, but he got the sap knocked right out of him now.

Heaving a sigh after another dramatic T.V. show scene came on, Jack turned off the mini flat screen and jumped off the made-for-two bed that was just a reminder how he was now ‘destined’ to die alone since destiny seemed to be working directly against him for the first time since birth.

Now in the shower Jack tried to burn out the memory of those beautiful warm eyes by turning up the water to a scalding temperature. All he wanted was to see red instead of grey, which was all that seemed to capture his attention. But nothing worked, and he continued to fester through the hot water on his back and hair and suffer through the sobs that wracked his body. _You_ _shouldn’t_ _be_ _crying_ _like_ _this._ _This_ _is_ _why_ _you’re_ _such_ _an_ _outcast,_ _why_ _you’re_ _so_ _lonely_ _and_ _hideous._ _No_ _one_ _wants_ _you._ _Signe_ _probably_ _didn’t_ _even_ _want_ _you_ _for_ _anything_ _other_ _than_ _pity._ _You_ _were_ _right_ _to_ _refuse_ _her,_ _you_ _would_ _have_ _just_ _bored_ _her._ _Your_ _own_ _soulmate_ _doesn’t_ _even_ _want_ _you._

Thought after painful thought flooded his being, causing him to fall to the floor in a heap of tired, scorching limbs and just shake like a leaf through each chest-tugging sob. He waited 25 years for this day… and he was a 26 year old crying in a hotel shower with no adoring soulmate that fate promised him. _This_ _is_ _what_ _you_ _get_ _for_ _being_ _optimistic._ _This_ _is_ _what_ _you_ _get_ _for_ _getting_ _your_ _hopes_ _up._ _The_ _one_ _good_ _thing_ _in_ _your_ _life_ _and_ _you_ _ruined_ _it_ _with_ _your_ _ugly_ _face._ _You_ _ruined_ _your_ _only_ _chance_ _at_ _true_ _happiness._

Stepping out of the shower, disillusioned and eyes still blurry with tear stained cheeks, Jack walked back into the main room with a numb feeling. The remnants of tears washed away with the water from his hair and he pulled a towel around his waist. He didn’t dare look in the mirror, he didn’t want to see the clear signs of crying or his small pasty figure. Jack sat on his bed for half a second before he heard a gentle knock at his door.

Flight or fight mode kicked in as his eyes expanded to the size of saucers. _Who_ _could_ _be_ _here_ _at_ _this_ _time?_ _At_ _any_ _time?_ But he rose anyway, not even taking in his apparent lack of clothes other than the towel, and answered the door.

\--  
_(Back on the Highway)_

As soon as Mark’s eyes locked with the blue eyes of the stranger he found himself oddly at home in the staring contest they were having, unable to look away for an instant. His blue eyes sparkled like the ocean, deep pools of sapphire, lively and peaceful. For once in Mark’s life he loved the ocean for giving someone eyes like these. Mark’s heart thumped loudly in his chest and he wondered if the stranger felt the same.

 _He’s a man!_ His mind screamed, but it was just a whisper to Mark. 

Next Mark noticed his hair was a vibrant green uptop matted greyish brown, and against his pale complexion stood out his rosy full lips. His otherwise smooth jaw had a slight scruff and his upper lip was accompanied by a slim mustache, which he never thought would be so oddly attractive till now. He wore a look of wonder equal to what Mark suspected he held himself, and the milk-white face appeared clear of any and all imperfections.

_He's the one..._

Mark’s head began to ache along with his heart and he felt slightly light headed looking back into the blue abyss that were the pair of sky eyes. He thought for a second he was going to faint out on the road fully cloaked in his uniform and right in front of the angel of a stranger.

But before his clouded mind could clear to form any type of action, he heard a very timid, very gorgeously foreign voice speak, “Hi.”

And just as instantaneously the world came tumbling back down and all the pieces clicked in place most swiftly, causing Mark to reel back almost violently without having known how close he had been to the man in the car to begin with.

With the silence broken all wild thoughts scurried to the recesses of Mark’s mind. “H-hi.”

The once wonder-struck face of the stranger transformed into one of immense joy, his red lips blooming into a smile, showing his pearly whites.

“You must be my-” His specifically European voice spoke again only for Mark to start blurting out fairly rapidly, _"No, no, no, no!"_

_He was about to say that word..._

And without a second word he hurriedly turned away from the black car and the confused man inside it, entering his police cruiser and pulling back out on the highway not sparing one more look to the parked car.

 _What the fuck just happened?_ Mark couldn’t explain it, one minute he was going to give a stranger a ticket, the next he was staring at his… Anyway, he had to think about this rationally, logically, that man couldn’t possibly be his…

Mark pulled up his rubber bands on his right wrist still driving, _0:00._ Damn it.

“Why me…” He covered his watch back up, not looking at it again but it was all still dawning on him now. Soulmate. Soulmate. Soulmate. FUCK. Soulmate. Soulmate. Soulmate. _FUCKKKK._

“No, no, no, no…” He repeated, hushed. Mark couldn’t keep his eyes on the road, they were rapidly shifting everywhere, anywhere, back and forth between the windows on his side and the floor beneath his tapping feet. _Why am I getting dizzy?_

Mark then swerved a tad and frantically clutched the steering wheel, righting himself again. _You’re a cop, stop letting this affect you. Wait, are those black spots in your vision?_

He started panicking, and his heart rate sky rocketed, but he remained on the road with trembling hands. Next thing he knew he was breathing a bit heavily… strike that, he was hyperventilating. _No! In and out, fuck, 1-2-3-4? Shit, what did my therapist tell me to do?_

 _Calm down!_ His mind screamed, and for once Mark listened, pulling over to the side of the road again, now far from the black car. _This is not the time for a panic attack, you’re going to be fine, this is FINE._

Who was he kidding? Mark was losing his cool like he used to as a kid, sometimes even as an adult. Whenever his parents used to fight or whenever he was in a stressful situation, such as this, he just became so overwhelmed and he started freaking out more than normal. It only got worse after his dad died, but Mark hadn’t had a panic attack in years.

It was the worst kind of thing, not being able to think clearly, or even breathe right, he always forgot what he was supposed to do in times like these. Counting rarely helped, telling himself how to breathe wasn’t any better. He usually had to ride these out on his own, even Amy had never seen him like this before and now he had no one to turn to, except-

_No! Don’t think it! He’s a stranger, he’s the reason for this! He’d only make it worse…_

Gradually through a fit of coughs and a few tears, Mark was able to calm down, thankful for not blacking out or crashing on the road. Wiping his sweaty palms on his black uniform pants, he let his eyelids fall and his head lay back for a moment of clarification. _Your watch has stopped. You have a soulmate, albeit a man, but you have one. He’s going to be wondering why the hell you ran away. You have a responsibility to him. A duty. He deserves an explanation, if nothing else._

When Mark came to conclusion of this all to be true, he let out a shaky sigh and adjusted his body back in the upright position. Now all he had to was go talk to- Christ, he didn’t even know his name. What kind of policeman was he not to even ask him that before scurrying away like a lunatic? Not to mention, the cop side of his brain added, he let the speeder-- soulmate-- leave without a ticket. At least that way he could have known some type of information on him, all he got was he was a foreigner with green hair. A _gorgeous_ foreigner, he begrudgingly admitted, but a stranger to America nonetheless. And for all Mark knew he could be leaving that day, that instant.

 _No,_ his mind reasoned, _he wouldn’t leave knowing his soulmate was here. His glee filled face was proof enough of that._

His gut twisted with guilt, that man was an obvious believer in fate, it was going to be hard to get him to understand that he wanted nothing to do with him. He had to break it to him as fast as possible. But how?

Then Mark glanced at his computer with the black car’s license on it still scanned. It was a rental, yes, but could it be used to track him down? It was worth a try, he decided with a shrug and began searching with mildly shaking fingers to find the number of the car rental company. He didn’t have time to recover from his panic attack but he knew he’d have to find a way to get used to there being a person out there destined to be with him, even if he didn’t want them. And he didn’t, not at all. Nuh-uh. Those blue ocean eyes that sparkled? Pff, _bor-ing_.

Anywho, Mark found the number and called it up, hoping his voice would at least not shake as much as his hands. The person on the other line, realizing he was a cop, quickly told him all he needed to know about the foreigner. All he had was a hotel number and cell number to go on, the hotel number being for the bill of the car and the number just as insurance. Mark saved the number in his phone for “safe keeping”, deciding to face his fears by showing up at the man’s hotel room to be a much more personal way of saying _‘Yeah, I’m not interested, buy-bye now, safe trip back wherever you came from.’_

So off he went in the directions of downtown L.A. coming up to a nice four star hotel. _So he’s not impoverish, thank God for that._ At the front desk he simply flashed his badge and the manager told him the floor on which the European was on. He only got a few snippets of the stranger’s voice, not a lot to go on yet but he was coming to the presumption of it being maybe Scottish?

Once on the fourth floor he went to suite number 492, knocking swiftly and cooly, not at all prepared for the door to open moments later with a handsome lean man shirtless, green hair wet, and a towel wrapped around narrow hips. Least of all he was not prepared for the shiniest blue eyes _(now glossed over with possibly tears?)_ staring back at him like he was the reason for both happiness and sadness itself.

_“What are yeh doing here?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hate me, love me, but you're pretty much stuck with me. That is, if you stay.
> 
> If you don't like long works this isn't the fanfiction for you. I am totally committed to finishing this whole thing and in a timely manner to the best of my ability, so I hope you are willing to be here with me?
> 
>  ** _Personal Bit:_** The reason I have saddled Jack with deep self-consciousness and Mark with a sack load of anxiety is because I've dealt with a lot of both in my life, that and it works out well for the story. But I have had anxiety attacks before as a kid and let me tell you, they are no picnic. And neither is hating your own self-image, which I've dealt a lot with. For a while I thought I'd be making two perfect characters, but that would be entirely unrealistic. _(Says_ _the_ _person_ _writing_ _a_ _soulmate_ _AU)._ Anyway, I just thought y'all might like to know why I chose these troubles for the both of them. This isn't the last you'll see of it.
> 
> Now that they've officially met, what do you guys think? Good, bad, _Oh-God-Kill-Me-I-Hate-This_? Please leave a comment explaining any such said feelings! I respond to every one of them. 
> 
> And thanks again for all the previous comments, kudos, bookmarks, etc. Till next time! :)
> 
>  **Sidenote: Gif for everyone! NEW**  
>  https://media.tenor.co/images/c9b3c20fcf4fb7d466ab5469ed5243e8/raw


	6. Awkward Coffee and a Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting right back where we left off. _Mark needs to move on and Jack needs to understand._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song dedicated to this chapter: Kodaline - The Answer
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dyZtqLoNO6Y
> 
> Fuck. All this support is scaring me shitless right now. I really hope I don't fuck up for y'all! Thank you for your faith!
> 
>  
> 
> **UPDATE: I'm switching up how I do POVs for the majority of chapters. I'm going to give certain parts to Jack and others to Mark, and it won't always be even between them depending on the chapter. Ex: This chapter will be mainly Jack's POV. The reason I'm changing POVs is because I don't want to keep writing the same dialogue through two perspectives, I think it would just benefit from one or the other better. Please tell me, though, if you don't like the change. I aim to please! Thank you :)**
> 
>  
> 
> Now who's up for some coffee? xx

“What do yeh want?”

 _Definitely Irish._ The question wasn’t said out of malice or hatred, if the man’s eyes were any indication of that, puffy and red but still a gorgeous blue. His lips were drawn into a thin line and he wore a worn out expression trying to pass as indifference. He looked hurt...

That and he also looked insanely gorgeous with his wet hair and his lithe body poorly covered by the towel wrapped around his waist that made Mark's face heat up. His eyes wandered without his permission, probably less discreetly than he would have liked. He heard a gasp and a small mumbled 'sorry' before the door shut in his face and Mark's eyes met wood. _(Not that kind of wood you perverts)_

After a minute the green haired man opened the door back up with a tight white t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans that left nicely displayed every curve of his body. Was he trying to look this way to Mark or was Mark just overly caught up in his staring?

The man coughed, signaling Mark to look back to up to guarded blue eyes. "Sorry 'bout that, just got out of the shower."

"That's, that's fine.... I—” Mark didn’t know where to begin now, but an apology seemed like the safest route. “I’m sorry that I ran out on you like that… I just…I didn’t…”

“It’s fine,” replied the shorter man quickly. Mark could see he was pushing away old tears as well as new.

_No, it really isn’t fine, is it?_

“Um,” Mark rubbed his neck awkwardly, his eyes trailing the ground, trying to erase his memory of never-ending flawless pale skin. Now, how was he supposed to say _‘I don’t want to be with you’_ in the least hurtful way?

“Do you maybe...want to come in?” Mark eyes snapped back up to blue again, still a bit guarded but now hopeful. Mark almost didn’t catch the words whispered, like the question was just a quiet thought, spoken as if saying it too loud would have earned a refusal.

“Well, uh, sure.” _What else was he supposed to say?_

The green haired man only nodded once slowly, opening the door enough to let the broader shouldered man in. Mark gave him a small smile, hoping it’d be more comforting than awkward, walking through the door frame. He saw the Irishman’s eyes brighten like that smile gave him life and returned it.

With the door shut behind him Jack led him into the main room that just so happened to be the bedroom because it was, after all, just a hotel. Mark found himself sitting down in the nearest seat once Jack sat on his bed, not really wanting to appear intimidating standing alone the way he was dressed. _Fuck, you’re still a cop, don’t forget that, you can do this._

Mark opened his mouth but no words came out. _Well, fuck, I can't do this._

Suddenly there was a hand waving in front of him and he realized the man wasn't sitting on the bed anymore. "Uh, hey, earth to—"

"Mark."

"Merk?" Mark snorted at the pronunciation.

"Yeah, and you?"

"Jack—well, I mean Sean," The Irishman, Jack, er, _Sean,_ corrected himself with a blush creeping up his neck.

Mark fought off a smile. _Damn, he's kinda...almost...cute...?_ "Which is it?"

"Well, my birth name's Sean but my friends call me Jack," he—Jack—clarified.

Mark coughed, his voice stuck in his throat. "I—a, which would you prefer I call you?" _Fuck. Why does it matter? You aren't going to see him after today._

He needed to get this over with, needed to tell Jack—Sean—whatever his name was, that he didn't _want_ to be with a guy like Mark. Mark was a cynic when it came to fate, they didn't believe in the same things. He was a cop, he hated his job, he had panic attacks, he wasn't _gay_. But something told him neither was Jack, at least not till now. And as soon as Mark, who believed his whole life he was straight, locked eyes with blue he knew that wasn't _exactly_ the case.

"W-whichever, Jack's fine, though, if Sean's too much." He looked a bit flustered, but his stuttering might have been the (almost) cutest thing Mark's ever seen.

But Mark wasn't about to get too personal. "Okay, Jack."

Jack nodded, a bit disappointed looking, but it quickly morphed into an unreadable expression.

"I need to—", Mark started to say as Jack said, "There's this—"

They both laughed uneasily, Mark with a tight smile and Jack with a tense one. "You go first," spoke Mark softly.

"Uh, okay, well, there's this place, nothing special really just—," Jack breathed, blurting out the next part, "Wouldyoumaybeliketogotocoffeewithme?"

Mark blinked. "What?"

"Coffee, you, me, if you'd like? Not like a d-date or anything..." He looked so nervous, Mark decided to take pity on him despite his better judgement. Or was it 'better'?

"Uh, yeah—sure."

Jack's face looked like a kid on Christmas, and it killed Mark. Now how was he supposed to tell him? _Fuck._

\--

 _'Not like a date'? Seriously Jack?_ But he didn't know what else to do.

Actually, Jack didn't know what the hell he _was_ doing, he'd never been on a date in his life. This was all new territory, and yes it wasn't a 'date', but he knew it may as well be one. A proper meeting, at best, and he had to leave a good impression. Why though since they were soulmates? Jack didn't have the answer. Mark had already left a lasting one himself, because if it wasn't obvious he was the most attractive person Jack's ever seen; male or female. Jack had never considered himself _gay_ , maybe he was bisexual for all he knew. The trope of 'gay for you' made him cringe, but he didn't know how else to explain being a person's soulmate. Straight couples had the easy road, but Jack knew he wouldn't trade Mark for anyone. Was this love at first sight? He didn't know the answer to this either, or if it was even possible. 

And Mark, he had such a guarded expression, though Jack could have sworn he saw some underlying desire when he was in just a towel. Now that was _embarrassing_ , but it just left way for more questions. He couldn't get a good enough read on the raven haired redhead. But Jack wasn't blind, and he could tell he seemed at least a _little_ interested.

Still, his doubt seeking, insecure thoughts wouldn't leave him be. _Maybe the reason he's acting so strange is because he doesn't believe in..._

_No, don't be silly,_ Jack chastised his thoughts. _Everyone believes in fate, in soulmates. He just needs time is all._ Jack was sure this had to be the case. After all, why would he have gone to all that trouble to find him and apologize for running like that if he didn't believe in fate? _He's scared, that's a natural reaction to a life changing condition._ Besides, even if he didn't have the strongest faith before, surely he did now. After the whole staring contest, running away scared, and then coming back to apologize full of nerves... These were clear signs of someone nervous over seeing someone they like... that or something entirely different that Jack wasn't even going to entertain for a minute. 

Nearing the coffee shop Jack had spoke of, neither of them had taken a second to talk. It was a couple blocks away from Jack's hotel, a nice small cafe with orange walls and brown friedrich chairs. It wasn't Starbucks, and there was no Wi-Fi, but it was cozy, sociable, and... apparently almost empty. Entering they walked past several college students all exiting with coffee stained smiles and laughs. It made Jack's heart twist, because he knew he could never be that friendly with people on average.

“Hi, what can I do you two for?” The teen girl behind the counter asked with an overly cheery smile as Jack and Mark approached. 

“I’ll take an Irish cream cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso." _(Hey, don't you fookin' laugh, Irish cream is the bomb you racists.)_

"Uh, I'll have a decaf french vanilla latte." The girl jotted down their drinks, gave them one more suspiciously mischievous look and turned away to make them. 

Jack raised a brow at Mark. "Decaf?"

He gave a forced looking grin, merely pointing at his badge. "I can't be having caffeine too late most nights, messes up with my schedule."

Jack just nodded in acknowledgement. "We could have gone somewhere else," he suggested.

Mark disregarded him with a wave. "I like coffee for more than a stimulant, it's fine, really."

"Right." _Well this isn't awkward at all..._

The aroma of coffee soon filled the air more than before and the girl came back with another smile. "Here you are gentlemen, the soulmate special." She winked, walking away, and Jack saw Mark stiffen up beside him. How she knew, Jack didn't know. "Um, thanks." He didn't correct her, not seeing a reason to, it was awkward and it wasn't what Jack had in mind when he dreamed of meeting his soulmate-- and not just about it being a girl in his old dreams-- but it was still his soulmate. Gripping his wallet in his back pocket he missed Mark taking out his first and paying up front. 

They picked up their coffee mugs and walked away from the counter. "I could've paid."

"I know, but I've already caused you enough trouble, it's only right." Jack didn't know what he meant by that but let it go.

“Where would you like to sit?” Jack asked. Practically every table was empty but there was one other couple sitting a few tables away- _nope, they just got up, they’re leaving, what the fuck._

“Anywhere’s fine,” Mark replied, eyes scanning the coffee shop for any sign of life, also noticing they were now the only two people there.

“O-kay.” Jack sat at the nearest table, not even bothering to gesture for Mark to sit down. Awkwardness aside for a moment, he never felt so giddy to talk to someone he only just met. But Mark was still lost in his own far off space, and suddenly Jack wanted to be surrounded by people with idle chatter and small talk just to drown out the quiet.

They stayed there for several minutes just sitting in the awkward silence, Jack being the only one to actually touch his drink while the adonis in front of him just zoned off. 

Every few seconds the American would look down at his coffee and then to one of the random orange walls, only to again look out the small window at the evening sky. And with all of this avoidance Jack could practically hear crickets chirping in the background of the silence. _God damn it Jack, you just had to bring him to the quietest and emptiest cafe in all of L.A. It’s like this bullshit was planned or something._

“So…” Jack decided to break the silence, “you’re a cop.” _Way to go Sherlock, asking the obvious questions._

Mark gave him a strange look but nodded, swirling his finger on the rim of his mug. “Yep. And you’re a…?”

“Game developer.”

Mark’s eyes brightened. “Really? That’s amazing! I mean, that’s, that's cool…so you get to design video games and stuff for a living?” 

Jack nodded in mild shock. _Where did this enthusiasm come from?_ “Uh, yeah,” He smiled, gradually becoming comfortable in his element, “I design a lot of the graphics and program some of the software. It’s a whole system of things really. Oh, I even do coding sometimes, it’s honestly a lot more fun than ya’d think.”

Mark smiled, and this time it was genuine. “Oh, I can imagine. Actually, before I became a Policeman I was going to be an engineer myself.”

Jack drank this information in along with his coffee. “We have a lot of great engineers at our company, it’s a part of being a good developer. Why’d ya stop trying to be one?”

Mark shrugged, smile still there but waning with a far off look in his eyes again. “Eh, college for engineering was hard, it took everything for me not to fail each class. I ended up dropping out.” He gave the coffee in his hand one final thoughtful look before bringing it to his lips and finally taking a sip. Mark moaned almost obscenely. “Oh my god, this is heaven, how could I have never been here?”

Jack chuckled, trying not to stare at the redhead’s lips as he took another sip. “I’m just surprised to find it empty tonight. This place was swarmin’ yesterday.”

“Well, some people would think it’s a bit late for coffee.”

“Late? It’s never too late to have coffee,” Jack stated matter-a-factly.

Mark laughed in his deep baritone voice and it sent shivers down Jack’s spine. "How'd you find this place anyway?"

"When I first got here nine days ago, a stranger outside my hotel recommended the place when I asked if there were any good coffee places around, ya know, besides Scooters or some shite." Jack looked out the window at a tall glass building, awestruck at all the tall structures L.A. had to offer.

"So, how is LA treating you?"

Jack shrugged, small smile playing on his lips. "I dunno, it's just sorta surreal, I guess, but I love it." He looked back at Mark who seemed to be studying him intently. "See something ya like?" Jack half teased, making Mark's face heat up like it had earlier.

"Sorry, just spaced off." Mark gave him a lopsided smile that tugged at Jack's heart strings and he remembered just exactly _why_ he felt so comfortable being this social, teasing even, with a total stranger.

“Fe is gonna go absolutely _ballistic_ when I tell ‘im about you.”

“Fe?”

Jack nodded, taking another sip and humming to himself at the flavor. “My best friend Felix, back in Ireland. Great guy, all time goof ball, and wonderful game developer. Oh! I shoulda probably mentioned I’m from Ireland, born and rais-”

“Jack…”

“Hmm?” They met eyes and he saw a deep guilt and regret swimming in his coffee eyes. Mark looked away, closing them. “Jack...”

Jack cut him off, his heart racing now and voice slightly higher with nerves, “Ya know? This has been _so_ much fun and—”

 _“Jack.”_ He stopped, feeling like he just shrunk half his size, and looked back at the hardened brown eyes of his soulmate. Mark groaned, tearing his eyes away again. 

“Jack, I know this is hard to hear, especially coming from me and who you want me to be but…I’m never going to meet your friends, your family, your _anybody,_ for that matter,” he bit his lip, “I should have specified this sooner, but I thought it would be easier if…I don’t wanna…Jesus Christ, Jack, _I don’t want a soulmate.”_

His heart felt like it stopped. He blinked. “What?”

_Was he hearing him correctly?_

“I just, how do I put this? I want to find someone on my own, I want to have a choice, I don't want my life dictated by, by some mythical force glued to my wrist. Don’t you see? We’re... We’re strangers to each other.” Mark looked pained trying to explain. Jack wanted to… what did he want to do?

He furrowed his brows, trying hard not to break down in front of him. “Aren’t all people strangers when they first meet?” _You can’t reason your way out of this Jack._

“Yes, but,” Mark started and Jack could tell he was growing frustrated by his stammering. “That’s not what I- Look, you’re- you’re not hearing me...” Mark’s hands were clenched and he looked as if he wanted to punch something, hopefully not the small Irishman. It was like he was a ticking bomb of anxiety and rage and Jack had to be the one to diffuse him.

“Mark,” Jack started out calmly, throat threatening to be choked with tears, “I _can_ hear yeh, I’m not deaf, _I’m listening_ ,” he gulped harshly, “and I... I _do_ understand.” _I don’t, I don’t understand at all._

But Mark lifted his gaze back off the table and gave Jack a thoughtful look, probably thinking he meant it. Jack tried to smile reassuringly, but the muscles in his face wouldn’t budge. 

“Do you really?”

Jack could only nod, squirming slightly in his seat, oddly praying for silence again. How could he not believe in soulmates? It had to be, it had to be an excuse... but for what? Could there maybe be...? "Mark, are you seeing someone else?"

"No!" He was fast to blurt out. "I mean, not anymore. There was someone..."

"They were... _special_ then?" 

Mark was looking a bit uncomfortable but their was a passive confusion in his eyes. "It's weird, I can't seem to remember anything special about _her_ right now..."

Jack didn't know what that meant, in fact he didn't know a lot about what Mark said. But he wanted to understand Mark, even if it hurt. "Do you still, love _her_?"

He expected him to snap or something, a sign of his prior rage. But Mark just sat there with a deeply puzzled, upset look. "I, I honestly don't know..."

This wrecked Jack, but he refused to get emotional about it. Mark was confused, bursting out in tears wouldn't help. Just because Jack had never been with someone before meeting his soulmate, didn't mean Mark couldn't have had a life before him. Jack could understand this if nothing else, still highly in belief that they were destined to be together. It would just... take a little while longer to get Mark to see it the way he did. "What's her name?"

This time Mark was quick to look back to Jack. "What?"

Jack sighed, a bit brokenly but he willed himself to smile. "What's her name?"

“...Amy.”

Jack swallowed thickly. “Tell me about her.”

Mark looked utterly confused again. “Why?”

“I need ta know what you’re feeling, what yeh did feel,” Jack reached out for Mark’s hand in a stoke of confidence, happy to find Mark didn’t immediately draw away, “I need ta understand yer past.” _If I’m to be a part of your future._

“Jack, I can’t promise you anything. Talking about her won’t change any-”

“ _Mark_ , just talk. Please.” Jack gripped Mark’s hand lightly before withdrawing on his own. Mark continued to look so baffled like he was having an inner battle. _I know what that’s like._

Jack knew it was going hurt like a bitch to hear Mark talking about his non-soulmate ex-girlfriend, but it was so hard for him not to cry right now as it is. He needed a distraction, more importantly he needed to understand why Mark didn’t want or believe in having a soulmate. If Jack could somehow comprehend, maybe he could help him back towards the truth. Even if all this caused was for Jack’s heart to break on the same day it was made full, it was worth a shot, right?

“Mark?” Jack asked after a while of nothing but heavy silence.

“Okay…” And for the next hour or so it was nothing but Mark talking about the past two years when he was with Amy and how it felt to be with someone who wasn’t his soulmate. For some reason, Mark seemed extremely detached from the brief life story he was recollecting to Jack. It was like he was telling the love story of a dear friend, but not his own. Jack could only guess it was because he had now met him, but he wasn’t about to add his two cents on the subject. Mark needed time, but how much time could Jack give him?

Their coffees were filled a couple more times that night, Mark only ever drinking absentmindedly as Jack watched the retreating figure of the girl who for some reason knew they were soulmates. She hadn’t even looked down at their wrists with their stopped watches, somehow she knew on her own. Jack wondered what it was about them that gave it away. But it was a question for another time.

Right now all he could do was hang onto every word Mark gave. He didn’t mind for a minute not having to do anything but nod and add a few words here and there as Mark was lost in some other world again. Jack loved listening to him, his deep voice was music to his ears, plus he’d never been a big talker, Felix had usually been the center of every conversation. And as Mark went on and on in the same detached way, Jack could only try to understand. It was hard, but he tried. Tried to picture himself with anyone other than Mark. But he couldn’t. Not with Signe, not with anyone. He just couldn’t. But, apparently Mark could. How was Jack going to change that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can call their coffees 'girly drinks', but I just couldn't let them go around drinking black coffee with a few sugars, 'kay? This is a bittersweet story, not straight up bitter. And also not straight at all, so...
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for your outstanding support from the last chapter! I didn't expect to gain so many readers, I'm so happy! (Also so scared) I loved your comments and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! This won't be the last of you seeing the cafe.
> 
>  
> 
> **I don't have a name for the cafe, any ideas? Extra points if it's something related to this story!**


	7. Inner Wars and Schemes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch is not enough... but is five days?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely LOVED _A Perfect Blend_ and _A Whole Latte Love_ , but sadly they are already taken by real life cafes and coffee shops and I need this cafe to be original. They were terrific ideas and I know y'all came up with them on your own but because they are real I can't.
> 
> I talked to some friends of mine and we came to the conclusion that _Smol Beans_ will be the cafe name because it's directly related to Jack and Mark while also sounding like an amazing coffee shop name! The runner ups were _Souls Alone_ and _Sweet Soulstice_ , so I'll be using those as something else later in the story! :D
> 
> There may be more opportunities in the future to name something like a movie or a bar, so stay tuned! xx

It was after dusk when Mark and Jack both walked silently back to the hotel. The silence wasn't as awkward as when they had first walked to the Smol Beans Cafe, if anything it was a bit forlorn. At least that's what Jack picked up, there was a feeling like there were words left unsaid. But he kept quiet, like he normally did.

Once they were back at Jack's room, room 492, with the weird feeling still up in the air, Mark stood still like a stranger as Jack pulled out his key, opening his door and standing in the doorway. Mark's eyes were averted but Jack's were glued to him like a magnet. Which, in many cases, was exactly what his soulmate was. An ever drawing force.

“Do ya, maybe wanna come in?” Jack knew he was pushing his limit on the amount of time Mark would spend with him, but he couldn’t help but ask. He chewed on his lip, hoping the brief stillness was a good sign but Mark didn’t look any bit close to accepting the offer. 

“I don’t think that would be a good idea…” His expression was guilt ridden, his words sounding like a dreadful goodbye.

Jack nodded, reluctantly agreeing. “Right. Of course, you’re right, bad idea...”

 _This is my last time seeing him, isn’t it?_ Jack’s eyes started welling up with tears, thankfully Mark wasn’t looking. _I didn’t even get to know him for a full day and now he’s…_

“But maybe, I could see you tomorrow?”

Jack's eyes snapped up to Mark's down-turned face. “Really?”

“For lunch if you’re up for it,” Mark clarified, his eyes still fixed to the hallway carpet, “I’m sorry if I ruined your night tonight by my...confession of sorts. And then by going on about my ex, even if you did ask. You’re new to LA,” he laughed dryly, “I’m afraid I’ve given you a bad impression of the place and the people. Everyone’s not an asshole like me, I swear.”

“I wouldn’t call yeh an asshole.” Jack smiled, tears begging to leak out momentarily forgotten. “At least not _that?_ big of one,” he quipped, attempting to lighten the mood.

Mark laughed again. “Hmm, yeah, well that’s good. So what do you say to lunch? J-Just as an apology of course.”

The last sentence disappointed Jack a bit, because he knew the underlying meaning. This wouldn’t be a date, and it wasn’t a promise, nor even a gateway, for anything more than just lunch. Just like coffee had been. But Jack was excited to see him tomorrow anyway, even if it would be the last time.

“That is if you’re even going to be here,” Mark added after a prolonged silence. “You have travel plans to leave some time, I presume?”

“O-of course, yes, I do. But my flight doesn’t leave until 6 days from now. I have 5 days left here.”

“5 days?” Mark looked thoughtful, it made Jack want to read his thoughts. Everything about him spurred on a curiosity like none other. It was starting to drive Jack insane.

“5 days,” Jack repeated. Yep, just 5 measly days and he’d be half a world away from his soulmate. But did the distance even matter if he’d still feel just as unwanted here two feet away from him if he was in Ireland?

“Well, I hope the last five days are enjoyable.”

Jack smiled again. “I hope so too. See yeh tomorrow then?”

Mark smiled back, however less promising than the response. “Yeah.” But as Mark turned to leave Jack remembered something.

“Oh! Wait, I should probably give ya my number.”

Mark held up a hand. “No worries, I already have it. And before you ask, I got it from the car rental company when I scanned your car’s license plate. That’s also how I found out where you were staying. But here,” Mark handed Jack a piece of paper from his note pad off his belt after writing his number on it, “here’s mine if you want to call earlier. Either way I’ll call you tomorrow and we can schedule then, okay? I have a lunch break at one.”

“That sounds good.” Jack wanted to say something more, anything to get a few more seconds to stare at the handsome face of his soulmate, but he could see the goodbye in his eyes too.

Mark nodded, staring off down the hall before briefly giving Jack a once over with an unreadable expression. "Goodbye Jack."

"Goodbye Mark."

And that's how they parted ways, no running away this time. But somehow this was worse. Such a stiff, emotionless farewell. It made Jack's stomach turn. This isn't how soulmates should be saying goodbye, it was too casual yet just as much too professional. It was so impersonal, horrendously anti-climatic. But Jack only shut his hotel door as Mark was already gone down past the hall and out of view.

Yet, for some reason, as much as this felt like the end it also felt like the beginning. _Beginning of what?_ his mind wondered. _Beginning of something new_ , Jack suggested to his thoughts, _maybe an adventure._

 _What about a tragedy?_ his mind pondered. _What if this adventure isn't the kind of adventure we're looking for?_

This thought was unexpected, but, _what if?_ There were many "what ifs" that Jack could think of. _Then so be it_ , he told his thoughts. But he was an optimist at heart, even if his mind was poisoned with doubt. He didn't believe it could be, but he could see the possibility, logically. Heart vs. mind in every aspect.

 _What if it's a happy ending?_ he challenged his mind. But his mind made no comment. _That's what I thought_ , he told his mind smugly.

 _Happy endings are for children. Fairy tale nonsense,_ his mind bit back, _Only fools believe in 'happily ever after'._

Jack frowned, not knowing what to say to that. So looking to ignore his mind he stretched out on his bed and pulled out his laptop. He took a look at his flight plan online scheduled six days from now. Everything looked in order but it all just felt wrong. Suddenly Ireland didn't feel like home anymore. Not that he didn't love the country, but it always felt like just a starting point in life, a hometown. Mark had flipped his whole world now and he wanted to desperately stay with him. It kinda freaked him out just how much he'd be willing to leave everything he knew behind just for one person. But he would. In a split second. And he wouldn't regret it.

_I'm head over fookin' heels, aren't I?_

With a sigh, Jack logged into Skype to see some recent messages from Felix. They decided before he left to only use Skype or some other form of social media to communicate while Jack was in away in LA. Overseas texting was priced high as fuck. But the messages this day, though all meant in harmless fun, made Jack hesitant to reply.

Fe-Fe: What's up bro! Todays the day, good luck!  
Fe-Fe: Found em yet?  
Fe-Fe: Don't forget the picture  
Fe-Fe: Y u no respond back??  
Fe-Fe: Oohh, gettin some soulmate action I bet ;)  
Fe-Fe: you guys are 'mating' eh?  
Fe-Fe: Come on, that was funny xD  
Fe-Fe: Jackkk talk to me -_-  
Fe-Fe: Marzia wants 2 know 2

He could only imagine what the Swede would say if he found out his soulmate was a man. If Jack knew Felix correctly, he'd probably never let him live it down. It was funny, really, how accurate he had been and they would've probably had a good laugh about it...but things were different now. What if Felix knew his soulmate didn't want him? He may have been a major doof who could make the stupidest fucking jokes sometimes, but he was a good guy. He didn't always know when to censor himself or his language in the workplace, but Jack was confident he wouldn't bring up the subject of soulmates again if Jack asked.

Jackaboy: Yeah I met them, tell u when I get back

But Jack was taking the coward's way out right now. He'd deal with Felix in due time, but at the moment he didn't want questions and didn't want to be coddled. He'd already had his full share of pity for one day and he knew lunch with Mark was nothing but pity. It was clear as day on his face when he asked. But...lunch was not nearly enough. Jack needed so much more than that if he was ever going to get over his own soulmate. The thing is, he didn't want to get _over_ him and— _I have an idea._

Maybe it was a terrible idea, but if Jack wanted more than just tomorrow he'd have to get it to work. Somehow he'd have to spend every last day he had with Mark. If he did this, maybe it really wouldn't end in tragedy. Maybe things would work in his favor. _Maybe._

But how was Jack going to pull this off, you may ask? _Hell if he knew._ Improvisation always worked, right? He had this in the bag! No planing, just spontaneous scheming! Everything that Jack was terrible at! His mind was still fighting nail and tooth against this idea, but his heart was soaring and he felt giddy with hope again. _Huh. I really am a sap._

 _Is five days really enough?_ His mind budded in once again, _Is five days going to help you let go?_

 _Let go? I can't..._ Jack knew this as a fact, at least he thought he did. But he wanted forever...he wanted _love._

 _So it's decided then?_ His mind sounded disgusted. _You're a fool._

 _I know._ And Jack was, he couldn't deny it. But maybe being a bit of a fool would help because he wasn't about to lose this inner war. Wasn't about to betray his heart because his mind was being turned into a skeptic. He was determined; Jack didn't want to leave.

_I have five days to make him fall in love with me. Five days to prove I'm his soulmate. And then... he'll let me stay._

\--

_Well that... didn't go as planned._

Mark groaned quietly, slumped against the lobby wall of the hotel after just barely making it down the stairs without feeling the stairwell closing in on him in shame. He dragged a hand down his face, wishing to wipe away the expression of guilt that kept popping back up on his features. 

_At least I didn’t panic once._ Now the red headed ravenette felt not just emotionally, but physically, and even mentally drained. It hurt to think, it hurt to feel, it hurt to exist. Everything just hurt all because of one encounter with his so-called soulmate who he was going to let down epically. Mark grumbled wordlessly. Thinking of the word _soulmate_ was just as bad as saying it, meeting Jack didn’t take away that feeling, if anything it amplified it.

“Officer, are you quite alright?” A voice broke through his thoughts and Mark fell out of his stupor. 

“What? Oh, yes. I’m fine, thank you.” The manager nodded and went back to his post, leaving Mark to his business. _You’re standing here like a drunkard, go home Mark, go home._

He couldn’t disagree with his thoughts and before he knew it he was back on the road in his cruiser, numb to the world as it seemed. He had no tears to cry, he had never been a big cryer to begin with. Even when Amy left him he hadn’t ever made a scene of it, neither in front of her or on his own. He had to move on as soon as possible, tears would only get in the way. Maybe it made him cold but there was something so unappealing about crying that made him feel almost weaker than the anxiety. And he couldn’t control that.

But he made it his business to protect others now, as both a cop and a human being. He didn’t like to see others cry and seeing Jack so near to tears so often during the evening, even after just meeting him, hurt like hell. Yes he was frustrated, down right mad at the whole situation to begin with, but it wasn’t right to take it out on Jack. He did nothing but trust in fate like the world told him to do, it was just too bad he ended up with someone as against it as Mark.

 _And you told him about Amy. What the hell were you thinking?_ He hadn't told a single soul about that, didn't even want to think about it, let alone talk about it. So why did he tell Jack? _Stupid. Stupid._ It was a whim, it had to be. Sharing such personal information with a stranger, matching watches or no matching watches. It was insane, impulsive, yet... _So easy._ Jack was still just a man he barely knew, but Mark didn't even think it through, he just spoke about _everything_.

About how Amy was so beautiful, but each word felt like a falsehood now. About how Amy was so perfect, but the words didn't make sense anymore. About how Amy was everything, but he said it like she was secretly nothing... _What the hell is wrong with me? The best two years of my life feel like a ghost. Like the memories were blind._ If that made any sense, which it really didn't.

And Amy was beautiful, but not _his_ beautiful? She was perfect, yet not _his_ perfect? She was everything, but someone else's everything... What did any of that mean? He loved Amy, he did, he _did_. But now...

 _Shut up!_ His mind roared. He couldn't take the conflict, his mind couldn't make sense of the bullshit his heart was going through. It was as if his heart just started beating that day and his mind was having a hard time keeping up. _I need to keep a level head. This will be all over tomorrow. One more day, just lunch, then goodbye._

But lunch was not enough. Mark knew it was going to take a lot more than lunch to clear his thoughts and to aid his guilty conscious. _What then? I need a plan..._ But each thought he came up with was too intimate for his liking. He'd have to get to know him, he'd have to... _show him L.A.?_

Yes, yes, that'd work. All Mark would have to do is keep him company for the last few days he'd be there, the last five days. He'd already been there nine days, surely five with a supposed soulmate would be enough then?

It left a bad taste in his mouth but the idea had substance, it made sense, and it most certainly would ease his heart about leaving Jack in the dust like he previously believed would be so easy. Though, his mind still argued leaving as fast as possible was the right thing to do, for both parties. But he couldn't leave, not yet. And it was more than just his own guilt. He didn't understand why he felt such a pull to the Irishman, other than his looks he didn't get why there was such a strong attraction. But there was something beckoning him to know him more, to have more, before he'd never see the same green hair again.

 _I've known him for what, three hours at most? This is pathetic to get attached to a man you swore you'd have nothing to do with._ But he was, he entirely was. Though he despised the idea still, he couldn't deny the immense pull of strings on his heart and limbs to carry him back to that blasted four star hotel with his blessedly well off 'soulmate'. _I need to find a better word than sarcastically saying soulmate..._

It goes without saying as Mark pulled into his driveway that he was a good distance away from where Jack was staying. Roughly a forty minute drive from that part of town but it only created the illusion of solitude. Mark could feel the ever lasting presence of the beauty with blue eyes shyly looking at him. He hated it.

"Hi Chica Pica!" Mark greeted half heartedly to his adorably large golden retriever as he stepped inside his small house consisting of just him and a dog. Chica jumped up and down, tongue hanging from her mouth, tail wagging while Mark set out her extra food for the night. He went through the motions knowing he'd have to at one point explain to his officials at work why he hadn't reported back that night. It wasn't exactly a required thing as an L.A. policeman, because there were so many of them out on the job for hours on end, but his partner would be wondering where he was since he never even showed up in congratulations for his engagement celebration at the department.

Mark walked off dialing his friend, and partner, Ken Morrison after petting Chica one more time.

"Mark! Where've you been, buddy! Us here jus' got done with the party!"

"Sorry man, I, I couldn't make it. I was a bit caught up but give my congrats to you and Mary."

The Southerner laughed loudly. "Awww, I wanted to see you man! The department made us a cake and everything! I'll save you a piece for tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Mark sighed absently, only half paying attention to the conversation.

"What's got your goat partner? You sound sad and shit."

"It's fine Ken, just had a long day. You know, highway duty and all," Mark lied. It wasn't easy to lie to his partner but how was he really going to explain meeting his soulmate and having him be a man nonetheless when everyone in the department knew Mark loathed the very technology he hid behind wristbands?

"I don't believe you for a second, but we can talk about it tomorrow. You are coming into the office tomorrow, right?"

"Of course. Wouldn't want to miss that cake," Mark said with a smile, welcoming the change of subject.

"The cake's really good, I think we'll get the same flavor for our wedding," the burly man gasped, "Oh! I was meaning to ask you something. Mark, I know you're all anti-soulmate and shit, but I was hoping you would be my best man?"

"Your-your what?" Mark couldn't even face his friend at his own engagement party and now he wanted him to be able to stand at a union of two soulmates getting married? Mark almost declined, but was he that much of a cynic to let his partner down for something so important? He couldn't...

"My best man! You buddy! You! There's no one I'd rather have next to me," Ken said happily, "It will be great, I swear! You don't even have to make a speech, I just want my partner there by my side, as embarrassing as that sounds."

He chuckled and Mark could sense he was nervous asking this. Mark could do nothing but accept.

"I'd be honored to be your best man Ken, don't sweat it." Didn't mean Mark wouldn't sweat it like crazy.

"Awesome! The wedding's in five days, sounds soon I know but Mary's relatives in Australia are going to be in town and really, we just can't wait to tie the knot already!"

Mark almost had a heart attack. "Uh, okay."

"Well, we can talk tomorrow, Mary's making me look at invitations right now. Byeee!"

The phone clicked, hanging up from the opposite end before Mark could say anything more. _What the fuck did I just get myself into?_

Not only was Mark going to have to deal with Jack tomorrow but now he was going to deal with a wedding in five fucking days? The same amount of time Jack would still be in L.A. Speaking of Jack... Mark still couldn't get the blue eyes out of his mind and he needed to find a way to get his guilt under control.

 _Am I really up for this? Five days with a guy I don't know._ Would that even be enough to sate his own irrefutable interest? But he had worked the scheme out in his mind. If keeping Jack company meant he'd have a better conscious it had to be done. He couldn't stand for this to go on for too long. He had to get his point across.

_I have five days to make sure he's entertained, and okay. Five days to show he doesn't need me. Then, he'll leave._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here comes a super-totally-epic-but-probably-not-as-epic-as-I'd-like-adventure! Yeah, I'm making it up as I go along... but I _do_ have the ending idea already figured out. NO SPOILERS. But seriously it's unexpected as fuck, or not? Idk.
> 
>  
> 
> _Shout-out to QueenGeekRose for the Cafe name!_
> 
>  
> 
> **UPDATE: I've been keeping a pretty fast paced back-to-back system of chapters going on here, but, fair warning, I have no idea when the next chapter will be out. All I can is most likely in the next week? I'm a 17 year old girl with homework so sadly I can't be uploading every two to three days like I've been doing. So by next Saturday probably? If not sooner.**
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, you guys always make my day so thank you for all your comments last chapter! I loved them! Please leave another about what you think of this new one! Bye! <3


	8. A Walk Through Your Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eh, I give up writing summaries right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you love me or this fanfic at all you'll listen to this song dedicated to this chapter: Kodaline - Autopilot  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSBzgwDECkc
> 
> BTW, all songs are strictly canon to this story. Just saying. Now enjoy! (lol, shut up Rachel, no one cares) xx

There were days that Mark felt under the weather, days where he felt bad, and days where Mark just felt completely fine. But today Mark felt like shit. There was no better word to describe it than that. Because the phrase _‘I-feel-like-I-want-to-gouge-my-eyeballs-out-with-this-pen’_ just wouldn't do. It was too long, very descriptive, and extremely concerning. But that pen was looking mighty tempting though…

Of all the days he had to do paperwork, it just had to be _today_. The first day of five, presumably, very long days. And Mark couldn’t believe he was thinking this, but highway patrol started to sound like an ice cream sundae. Whatever the fuck that meant.

 _I need more coffee, but this tastes like dirt mixed with sewer sludge._ And that was just the department’s coffee. In fact any coffee Mark tried tasted terrible for unknown reasons. He had five different styrofoam cups on his desk from five different coffee shops around town. One from Starbucks, one from Scooters, and three others from random places native to L.A. But no matter how many types of french vanilla lattes he tried, he hated each one. _Strange. I didn’t hate them before, why do I do now?_

Mark blamed his little tryst with a delicious coffee mug last night. Nothing compared to that downtown orange walled cafe's brew. Was it the atmosphere that was messing with his brain? The orange walls were weirdly comforting, the intricate wickered chairs, the peach colored tables, all gave the place a snug, homely feel. But the place had been empty for all but him, a green haired beautiful disaster, and a winking teenager who read them like an open book. It was awkward, it was terrible, it was _wonderful_.

Mark shook his head of that weirdness. His thoughts were just a jumble of misguided emotions, he suspected. There was no way it could be anything more than that. His eyes tried to focus on the black printed words on the paper in front of him but the sentences blurred together in his mind. _What the hell. I can't even read normal anymore._ Mark rubbed his temples feeling a headache coming on, which usually led the way for a panic attack and he was having none of that today. He still hadn't texted Jack ever since exchanging numbers. In truth, the silver phone sitting by his stacks of paper looked like it was going to bite him if he picked it up.

"Why my Best Man, it looks like you are in desperate need of some cake!" Mark jumped in his chair when Ken came up from behind with an oversized piece of white cake in his hand and a wide grin. Mark groaned. "Why, Ken? Why do you do that?" He grabbed the plate as Ken laughed sitting in the seat by his desk. "Come on, what's the point of being a cop if you can't use your skills to sneak up on your partner?"

Rolling his eyes he picked up the piece and took a bite, not needing any utensils because fuck it, he was hungry. "You could use your skills, for I dunno, actually doing some work?" Mark grumbled, shifting in his seat till he was leaning back trying to alleviate his headache.

Ken scoffed. "Oh, I don't use my skills? I'm not the one doing desk work, partner." 

"It wasn't a choice _partner_ , I was assigned to it," Mark paused to take another huge bite of the delectable cake, "Better to not upset the boss, I'm on my way to a promotion and I'm not going to fuck up my chances. Great cake by the way." Ken only nodded, oddly quiet with a twisted expression which Mark knew was his thinking face. "Ken?"

"So what were you overthinking about last night?" He gave Mark an expectant look, he gulped. "Who said I was overthinking?"

This time Ken rolled his eyes. "Don't dance around the question. I know that look anywhere. There's something bothering you."

"What makes you say that?" Mark's eyes flitted around, never staying on one object more than five seconds.

"I do. You seem moody, and you look like you have a headache."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Mark now glared at him, sick of the introspecting.

"Mark," Ken drew out his name cautiously, "You have a headache, your eyes keep shifting like you can't focus. You seem tired, grouchy even, and you're eating like you haven't eaten in days," Ken snapped his fingers in Mark's face when his eyelids drooped, "You can't even listen to me without your eyes glossing over! _Mark,_ did you even get any sleep last night? Or eat breakfast?"

Mark hid his face in shame, hunching over his paper strewn desk, feeling the empty hours of the night filled with him staring off at the blank wall dawning on him now. All of the coffee he had didn't make him feel anymore refreshed or awake.

"Mark?" He felt hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing, aiming to comfort him. "Mark, I can't help you buddy if you don't tell me what the hell is going on."

"I met them, I met him..." Mark let the words fall out in his hands but Ken looked confused. "Met who?"

" _Them_ , Ken, _him_. My, my..." But he couldn't say the word, his hands moved over the circles under his eyes. "Oh," Ken's eyes widened, he had figured it out, " _Oh them_.... they're a him then? Mark why didn't you just-"

"It has nothing to do with his gender Ken! I don't, I don't even care that he's a man. I-I-I'm not losing sleep and not eating because he's the same sex, _Jesus_." Mark's hands pulled at his hair, not knowing what else to do. He was getting weird look from his co-workers now. _Great._

"Mark..." His partner started again, his bottom lip between his teeth, "I think it would be best if you go get some coffee, maybe something you'll actually drink?" He was trying to be helpful, his voice was soft and kind and Mark was thankful he had a friend like him even though his headache didn't lessen. "I can't, I need to work..."

"No, what you need to do is get your ass out of here and in the open air to settle your thoughts man." Ken pulled his hands away from his hair and hauled him up from his seat like he was a human rag doll. Setting Mark right, he slapped his face lightly till his eyes focused on the larger male who held a concerned look. "I'll cover for you but you need to get some fresh air, alright?"

Ken's words left no room for argument, so with a nod Mark found himself soon outside the department with the sun blinding him in the spring air. He hailed a cab, knowing his partner would probably be in need of the cruiser at some point. Without even giving it a second thought he asked to be taken to _that cafe_ which was only a fifteen minute drive from his work. The small hand painted words of 'Smol Beans' on the coffee shop window seemed to mock him. There was a cluster of people leaving when he passed the wooden, rather than metal, threshold for the second time.

Ignoring his surroundings like he normally did when he was half awake he made an effort to trudge up to the counter. It wasn't the teenager from the last time but instead an older woman perhaps in her 60's who greeted him with a warm smile. "Hi, what would you like hun?"

"I'll take a french vanilla latte," he answered gruffly, wanting to smile back to be polite but it was a wasted effort. It wasn't even ten seconds later when he heard a regrettably familiar voice behind him.

"Mark?"

_Fate fucking hates me._

Spinning around he came face to face with those same unmistakable blue irises of a thousand seas settled on the face of his sou-- _his nothing, Mark's nothing, you didn't hear that_ \-- on the face of Jack. Because that glorious accent couldn't belong to anyone else, _unfortunately_.

"J-Jack," He stuttered. _Damn it._ "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

Jack quirked a brow, his expression unreadable. "Neither was I." His eyes widened when he looked Mark up and down, but especially long at his face and his features quickly turned to half-horror half-worry. "God, Mark, ya look exhausted. Are yeh sick or sumethin'?"

He looked like he wanted to rush up and give him a hug and Mark wondered just how sickly and tired he really looked. Ken even knew there was something wrong. But Mark hadn't so much as looked in the mirror that morning, whether it was from the knowledge he'd piss himself at his own haggard reflection or a whole 'nother reason. Suddenly the room was spinning and Mark felt on the verge of a panic attack by the mere look Jack was giving him.

"I-" He started before he was cut off by Jack carefully saddling himself with the responsibility to help him stand by rushing up to him like Mark previously thought he might. "Here, lean on me," Jack whispered and Mark reluctantly did. 

"Thanks," Jack spoke to the older lady, handing her a few bills that must have already been in the Irishman's hand in exchange for Mark's latte. Next, with Mark still glued to his side, he brought them both to the table they sat at the night before, only now with a half eaten bagel and an empty mug.

Mark peered at Jack's outstretched hand holding his coffee when he finally sat down, feeling the panic fade he took it gently. "I could've paid."

Jack shrugged. "I know, but I've already caused you enough trouble, it's only right," he repeated Mark's words a bit cheekily with a small smile. How on earth he remembered that word for word, Mark didn't want to know. Though the smile he held quickly vanished. "How are yeh? You looked like ya were 'bout to pass out."

"I'm fine, you don't need to worry about me." Jack didn't look convinced however. "Really, I'm as fit as a fiddle, just tired." Mark's voice was small but not frail or brittle, so he hoped he'd just take this explanation. This excuse. Because hell would have to freeze over before Mark admitted he'd been up all night, having not eaten dinner nor breakfast, all because of the very man staring at him right then and there.

"Well if you're sure..." There was a wary look behind the blue of his eyes but Mark tried to smile off the suspicion, though it was more likely a grimace. "May I ask why you're here? I thought you've never been 'ere before last night."

"The coffee's good here. Thought I'd tried it again before going back to other places," Mark was lying through his teeth, yet he was taking big gulps of the latte like it'd be his last. "What about you? Why are you here again?"

Jack glanced down at his laced fingers on the table. "Eh, same as yeh I suppose. The hotel doesn't have the best coffee." Mark nodded, looking around the cafe. "You know? It seems to always be empty in here."

"Must be you," Jack mused, his lips twisted upward, "the place was crowded again before ya got here."

Mark found himself smiling at that, and his mood slightly brightened. "Huh. I guess you could say I'm bad for business."

Jack snorted and smiled from ear to ear. "I'll make sure to remember your talent for clearin' a room when we go to lunch later. Could come in handy for long lines." Then a look crossed his eyes and Jack was looking at Mark with a half worried expression again. "But maybe we should hold off lunch. You didn't look too good a moment ago. Are yeh sure you don't want to go home and rest or sumethin'?"

Mark shook his head, a bit forcefully. "No, no, coffee should be just enough to wake me up. I actually have to get back to work."

"Uh, alright, do yeh have to leave right now?" He appeared a bit disappointed from what Mark deducted, but still smiling. It did things to his head.

"Um... not right now, actually." That was a lie. A big fucking lie, Ken was covering for him as is. Mark's boss wouldn't be happy if he knew he was gone, ditching desk work. He was risking his promotion. But right now Mark didn't care. He wasn't even tired anymore, and a part of him was telling him it wasn't the coffee.

Jack's smile widened, which seemed almost impossible, but it did. "Would ya care to go fer a walk then?"

Mark accepted and he stood up with a semi-clear head, headache gone at least and he no longer felt so bad. But how long would that last?

\--

God, Mark looked sleep deprived as all hell. His red and black hair tousled carelessly, not even in a messy style, just chaos. And his brown eyes were twinkling now but they had looked so lifeless when he first saw them, like the coffee tint had drained from his mocha eyes. The deep chocolate color melted down in a half-lidded dead gaze. Not to mention the dark bags he had under them. It was unsettling to say the least, but Jack was happy to know he was looking a bit better after a few minutes of meager chatter. Less tired.

Jack momentarily contemplated whether or not his whole apparent lack of sleep had anything to do with him. But, surely not. It could be any number of things. What made Jack any bit more special than the average stranger to occupy the adonis's thoughts? No. Just because Jack had given up his own thoughts to his soulmate last night meant nothing. It's not like Jack slept regularly anyway, being a game developer and everything.

But he had to admit he ate about four bagels already that morning and was about to buy another when Mark came in after ever other customer had mysteriously left. He ate when he was nervous, overthinking, sad, etc. Jack was a bit of a mess, but overly worried with his appearance like usual, he almost didn't leave his hotel room because of his scattered thoughts and overeating habits. Not that he regretted going back to Smol Beans now, walking by his soulmate downtown trumped staying in a-hundred-to-one.

"Do you know any good parks around L.A.?" Jack asked, knowing of course he would. He had planned to put his scheme in to spend as much time with Mark as possible when they met for lunch but seeing as they had the morning it wouldn't hurt to start now.

"Yeah," Mark took a glance at their surroundings on the corner of a street, "there's a place around here actually," he pointed to the east, "just a few blocks down that way."

It took another ten minutes before Jack could see a large capital like building standing tall, towering over an urban looking park devoid of flowers but full of fountains, green grass, sparse trees, and life. It was beautiful, in a modern way. There was a sign on the corner of the park that read _Grand Park_. The park wasn't exactly isolated but the place was long, going down blocks of street, and wide enough for there to be plenty elbow room if needed. Perfect location, really, for a simple stroll and Jack's thoughts were starting to sound like an old person's or a hipster's.

When Jack turned to look at Mark he noticed he was staring at him thoughtfully like he had last night. There was something about that stare that Jack thought he was never going to understand. Like the thoughts were meant to forever be secret, lost in the mind vault that was the ravenette's head. 

But Jack was too curious not to ask the question that's been eating away at him. "What are ya thinkin' about?"

His soulmate's eyes blinked out of his trance, turning away and Jack would swear on his own life he saw him flush. "Nothing in particular."

"Are you sure?" he probed, eager to get him to say something, anything to reveal some hidden feeling or thought, "I'm a good listener."

"I know," Mark led the way for them to start walking down a path, "But I think you've heard enough from me after last night... tell me about you." 

Jack's eyes snapped up to his face and his eyes were boring down into his and Jack was the one to flush, but he blamed the direct sunlight. "Me?" he squeaked.

Mark nodded like it was the easiest thing in the world to do, causing Jack to sigh. _Me? I mean, this is good right? My soulmate wants to know about me._ "Um, what would you like to know?"

Mark shrugged. "I dunno. Just whatever." He seemed so nonchalant, Jack wondered if it was a facade. Mark looked so casual, if it was all pretense than he was a damn good actor.

"Um..." _where do I start?_ "If I tell ya sumethin' about myself will ya tell me sumethin' about you?" If Jack was going to talk so was Mark.

He saw Mark freeze then pick up walking again. "Uh, yeah, sure."

"Alright, well, as yeh probably can tell, I'm Irish. Born and raised in Athlone, Ireland. Moved to Dublin after college and became a game developer for a major company after a year long internship. I'm 26 years old with two brothers, two sisters, and a mom and dad like any other conventional family. Oh, yeah, and my favorite color's red." Which was the exact color he turned when he admitted that to the obviously redheaded adonis.

He didn't exactly spill all his deepest desires and secrets, but this was Mark he was talking to. And Jack thought it better to remain simple than to overwhelm him with they way normal soulmates would jump into things. "Your turn."

"Okay," Mark bit his lip as they stopped by a rather large fountain, he kept his eyes transfixed with the water while Jack's were locked on his face. "I'm German Korean, if you that comes as any surprise. I was born in an army base hospital in Hawaii, but grew up in Cincinnati, Ohio. I moved here when I got a position at the L.A. police department some years ago. I have one brother, a mom, a step-mother, and _had_ a dad... And well, my favorite color is uh, green..." He was _definitely_ blushing now at the small admission.

Funny how much a favorite color can mean to someone, but that's not what caught Jack's attention. "Had?" Mark's body was still stock still but his face flinched in mild pain, like he was opening an old wound already scarred over. "Uh, yeah. He passed by a long time ago though." 

Jack nodded. "I'm sorry." Mark smiled, not unkindly, but perhaps a little bitter inwardly. "Thanks but, there's nothing really to be sorry about. We were never that close anyhow... but I do miss him every now and then," he shook his head like he was trying to clear some unpleasant thoughts and Jack wondered why he was sharing this, "My parents never really fit well together, ya know? Always fighting."

Jack's nodded again at the notion. He knew exactly what it was like to have parents who just weren't meant to be. "My parents weren't soulmates either, I understand where ye're comin' from."

Mark's head turned sharply to Jack's and his stare was haunting. "Mine were." The words were spoken so low, Jack almost didn't hear them. He almost wished he didn't. Because it made no sense.

"What do you mean?" His eyebrows furrowed, Jack didn't understand. "If they were soulmates then why did they-"

"I have to go." And like that Mark was briskly sprinting away. _Well, I guess that's a step above running away from me..._

Jack stayed put, standing in front of the fountain, seeing as there wasn't much point in going after him. He sighed, finding himself on a metal pink bench after a few minutes. Reading Mark was harder than Jack thought it would be. He wasn't exactly a mystery or an enigma but he was certainly a puzzle, one Jack didn't know he could solve in five days. That is, even if he could get that long with him. These brief moments were beginning to frustrate him, he hated not understanding what went on in his soulmate's own thoughts.

But he wasn't giving up, hell no. If Mark was going to make this a challenge to figure him out than Jack had to become a part of the game. If Mark didn't want a soulmate then Jack would have to play along to get close. And once he was close, once he was trusted, maybe then he could sway him in the right direction. If you can't beat them, join them, right? _And Jack was about to join the motherfucking soulmate hating club._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I do realize I'm easing into this adventure slowly. But I swear it gets more exciting. Like hopefully really exciting. I can't drop any more hints than that but I'll be dropping hints through this whole thing. I KNOW THE ENDING NOW. But I still refuse to give spoilers, y'all gotta read between the lines. :P
> 
> Now about the park: Grand Park is a real park in L.A. I looked up parks in L.A. and it was the first one that popped up that was downtown. Now I know absolutely nothing about L.A. except that Hollywood's there. So I literally just described the park as a park downtown based off of some pics. (The benches are literally pink, it's awesome) There's pictures online if you want a visual. :)
> 
> Anyway, I loved the comments last time! So much fun! So please if you'll leave another that'd be amazing! And to all my new readers, _I see you_ , don't be ghost readers darlings, I'd love to meet you! Byeeee! <3
> 
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> 
> **Sidenote: Restaurant name anyone? Not too fancy, but not fast food. Just casual. Must be original! :D**


	9. 21 Questions and a Familiar Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate's a prick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song dedicated to this chapter: Gabrielle Aplin - Please Don't Say You Love Me  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gb3tL_U4az8
> 
> I've picked Paragon to be this restaurant's name! I've decided it will be Italian.  
> Esperanza, Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria, and BLD (Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner) will all be used in later chapters!  
> I haven't forgotten about Souls Alone and Sweet Soulstice, they are going to be used very soon! _(Souls Alone will be used next chapter and Sweet Soulstice will be used in the 12th chapter)._

"Where the hell were you Mark?" Ken looked furious, pulling exasperatedly at his uniform as Mark snuck back into the police department.

"You said I could go out for coffee," Mark stated, holding up a new latte, having swung by Smol Beans after ditching Jack. "I got coffee, I don't see the problem here."

His partner threw his arms in the air. "Not for two fucking hours! You were supposed to get coffee and come back." Ken scrutinized him, probably looking for any hint of lying, but Mark's face was as stoic as ever, revealing nothing, hiding everything. And when Ken came up blank, like Mark knew he would, his eyes narrowed and his suspicion seemed to rise. "If you're selling drugs, partner..." He leaned in all ominous like, "You better fucking give me a cut! God knows being a cop gets you no money..."

Mark rolled his eyes at his friend's antics. "I'm not selling drugs, _jeez,_ Ken. And if I was, you think I'd tell my cop friend?"

"Better me than the boss, Oh! Don't get mad or anything but," Ken paused, glancing at the ceiling, "I _may_ have told the boss you were constipated." Mark's eyes widened. "What?!"

"Hey! I could only tell him one too many times that you were in the bathroom before he started getting suspicious!" he whisper-yelled.

"Ken! You don't just tell people I'm—"

"Is there a problem here, Mr. Fischbach?"

"Oh, sir!" Mark turned on his heel to see his boss looking rather surly, "Mr. Fredrick, I'm sorry I was just telling Mr. Morrison—" But the friendly faced man interrupted him with a smile. "I'm only kidding Mark, c'mon, how many times must I tell you to call me Matthias?"

"I'll remember this time, sir—I mean, Matthias," assured Mark sheepishly, remembering just how badly he wanted his promotion. Then his eyes were lingering on the clock. 12:00. _An hour before my da- before my lunch with Jack._ Mark glanced back to see Matthias regarding him with a raised brow as if waited for him to say something more. "Uh, _Matthias_ , could you maybe excuse me for the rest of the afternoon? There's an urgent matter of business I need to attend to..."

"Wha—" Ken started indignantly before Mark stomped on his foot out of the sight of his boss on the opposite side of his desk. "Ow!" he whispered.

His boss gave him a strange look until it seemed it seemed to light in realization. "Ah, you _need_ to go home do you? It's that bad?" Mark's brows furrowed before he too realized with a slight blush what he was inferring to. _God Damn Ken._ "Uh, yep. That's exactly it." _Yep, this is totally the right kind of conversation to be having with your boss._

"Alright, well since you have to leave, Ken?" His partner's snapped his head up to his boss after glaring at Mark. "Since you seem to be doing nothing, would you mind taking Mark's place?"

"What?! I mean, no, I wouldn't...Matthias." Their boss nodded his head satisfied and left, Ken going back to glaring at Mark. "What?" Mark asked innocently.

"You know what! I'm getting married in four days and you're the one who gets the afternoon off because he thinks you have fucked up bowels?" Ken pouted childishly. "Not fair..."

Mark chuckled. "Oh come on, you know it's just because I'm his favorite." Ken only grumbled wordlessly as Mark packed up a few things, but before he could leave Ken piped up again. "So how's your reclusive soulmate?"

Mark choked on air. "What the fuck?" Ken smirked. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You wouldn't be gone for two hours without a valid reason. And coffee is _never_ a good enough excuse, so don't sass me."

"Shut up Ken." Mark imagined he was turning every shade of pink imaginable.

"Oh come one, we have to discuss it at some point!" His partner expressed loudly, gaining the attention of many co-workers. "You can't run from fate forever!" He pointed out smugly. Mark only flipped him off, walking off dramatically down the hall. "Watch me."

Mark headed home as soon as he left, watching the clock like a hawk. He knew he had to text Jack at some point, but he also wanted to get ready. _God, I sound like such a girl..._ But Mark took a glance at his reflection in the mirror of his car and he knew he couldn't show up to any such place looking like that. He never had a problem with how he looked before, but that changed literally over night. _I'm not trying to impress anyone_ , he spoke in his mind. _I just can't look like a cop all the time._

But his heart wasn't so easily persuaded, it kept on pounding as he looked through his closet for a nice, casual, 'cool guy' shirt. He shed his uniform finding his lucky black and red button-up plaid shirt. _Perfect._

He changed into a pair of jeans after the shirt and brushed his hair, not styling it but at least it looked tame. He looked in the mirror one more time, over analyzing each feature he possessed. He squinted at his reflection as if just realizing what he was doing. _Am I vain or something?_

Finally done 'getting ready', like he refused to call it, he had his phone in his grip and it's silver tint glinted like the devil. _Grow some balls, Mark, fucking text him._

Mark: Hey, it's Mark, sorry for leaving so soon, I had to go to work, do you still want to go to lunch?

He bit his lip, waiting for a reply, wondering why he was suddenly so very anxious about everything. _Maybe Ken's words are getting to me. That must be it. He's trying to mess with my head. He knows I don't believe in fate._

It was a few minutes before he got a response.

Jack: Hi, yeah, did you have a restaurant in mind?

There were many good places around L.A. but there was one new place that just opened up about five months ago that Mark had been meaning to take Amy too before they... Well, it seemed like a good option anyway... but Mark's hand seemed to stumble on whether he wanted to risk his heart going into lock down mode if he suggested the place.

\--

Jack's hands were gripping his red cellphone like it was a lifeline, an anchor holding him down on earth trying to keep his mind out of the clouds. _Is he going to text back?_ It was normal for Jack to be uneasy texting a complete stranger, but this man was no stranger. At least Jack didn't see him that way, but _who knows_ what Mark thought of him. _The annoying shy Irish prick who's doped up on caffeine and bullshit fantasies. That's probably how he sees me. Just a person to pity and hate equally. All the while probably tryin' to find a way to get rid of me._

Jack wiped a hand at his eye, a few stray tears collecting as he over analyzed everything. _I gotta stop thinking about this shite. I got five days to change that anyway...that is if I can even pull this off._ Finally his phone binged.

Mark: I was thinking Paragon, it's a new place downtown. Do you like Italian?

_I know I really like Korean German... Shut up thoughts._

Jack: Italian's good, are you going to pick me up?

Mark: Yeah, be there at one thirty

Jack let out a sigh of relief that he was already ready. He wasn't expecting anything fancy so he had changed into a Dark Souls grey T-shirt partly wrinkled and faded blue skinny jeans. He could only hope Mark wouldn't notice the outfit change in the middle of the day.

He was on his bed when he heard a shy knock. Swinging the door open, grateful he wasn't half naked this time, he tried to stop his heart from leaping in his throat at the way Mark was in civilian clothes for the first time in front of him. Mark in a uniform was hot, but now in a red plaid shirt, Jack's favorite color, it was getting harder not to constantly blush.

"Hey, ready to go?" Mark's cheeks colored at the look Jack must have been unabashedly giving.

"Yes, yes, let's go."

The Restaurant was thankfully a casual place from what Jack could tell on the outside. It was a brick building, a marvelous structure that looked straight out of the 19th century with arched windows outlined in white and a small patio out front. To be honest, though, Jack wouldn't have cared if he went to McDonalds as long as he'd have Mark's company.

They stood outside, Mark waited patiently while Jack took it all in. Downtown L.A. was after all beautiful and even after ten days it still took Jack a second to process just how different it was from Ireland. "Is Paragon Italian? I mean I know the food is but the name? I've never heard it."

"Oh, I think it means something along the lines of 'perfect model or example'. It's actually an English word, I did some research on it once though."

Jack nodded, glancing at Mark's form, his eyes were looking at anything but him, the same coffee eyes that for a moment the day before held a mirrored desire. The only word to come to Jack's mind about the redhead was 'perfect'. But this whole situation wasn't. Jack didn't believe _he_ personally was. And, in fact everything had gone against how Jack thought it would go. All Jack wanted was to have something perfect and destined or not, it was still out of reach. Everything he ever feared because of his own non-soulmate parents was starting to come into focus. _I'm gonna end up like them if I can't make this right._

Mark's head turned back and Jack drew away his gaze so that Mark wouldn't have to be faced with what Jack imagined would have been a very sad look. He wouldn't give away his inner conflict, this scheme had to work or he'd be broken. He was sure of it. Never been so sure about something like this in his entire life.

"Ready to go in?" Mark held the door open for him when they went in. Jack was mildly shocked by the action and by the look on Mark's face so was he.

It looked pretty much the same as it did outside, just very much Italian with the wafting smell of garlic bread and modern wooden decorum but the walls were still brick and it wasn't the kind of place where you were seated. They sat soundlessly in one of the farther away tables from the door but the environment wasn't awkward like it had been at the coffee shop. No, it was far more like they were both waiting for the other to start. For the other to say something so they could begin.

"This place is nice," Jack broke in, gaining the attention of his soulmate that always seemed to be barely attainable.

Mark agreed, humming. "I was meaning to come here at one point."

"Really? Alone?" Mark opened his mouth but then closed it with an uncomfortable expression. _Oh. Amy._ Jack would have hated the mere thought, but empathy tugged at his heart because he knew Mark wasn't his to be jealous over. Not yet.

They fell into another bout of silence before they were served where Mark ordered parmesan chicken and Jack ordered a slice of lasagne.

"I hope this isn't too, er, fancy. I should have specified better," Mark eyed him, more nervous than Jack thought he ought to be.

"No, this place is perfect," Jack blushed. "Well, _literally_ , I guess."

Mark smiled, it was _beautiful_. "I-I'm glad." Jack didn't know why he was, but that brought on some previous thoughts.

"Mark, I think it's best if we addressed the elephant in the room. I know ya only invited me to lunch out of pity."

"Jack, I-"

"There's no point in denying it," Jack cut in gently but with conviction, "It's okay, really, jus' I don't want ya thinkin' yeh can bullshit me into believin' you're jus' bein' polite." 

Jack tried to connect his eyes with Mark, but his head was bowed. "I'm sorry, Jack. I told you that I can't be what you want, I just thought this would help make it up to you? Christ... I know it doesn't though."

"It's fine," it was an effort for Jack to keep his tone even, collected, "But can I ask at least one thing of you? Can ya let me get to know you before I leave? I know yeh don't want anythin' to do with me but, can you give me that?" This was reasonable, wasn't it? Sure, Jack was partially lying, catering to what Mark wanted from this strange acquaintance, this acquaintance between presumable strangers. Really, of course, Jack wanted more than to just get to know him, but Mark didn't need to know that.

Then a thought crossed his mind before Mark could answer. "Hey, do ya maybe wanna play a game?"

Mark quirked a brow, head raised. "Game?" _Well that came out wrong._

"Uh-no, not a game-game, not like _that_. Like a, a getting to know you game... 21 questions...?" There was a quizzical look in his brown irises, perhaps a bit skeptical but Jack left it up as a question in case he wanted to refuse. Really, though, this seemed like the most impersonal way of getting him to talk. He needed Mark to take the bait. "Ya know what 21 questions is, right?"

Mark still didn't look too sure of himself or the idea, but he nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, I've played it, do you want to go first then?"

"Sure," a smile found it's way on Jack's lips. "Favorite food?"

"Chicken dumplings," Mark replied, not even thinking, a small smile creeping up on his face, "Yours?"

"Cookies, ice cream, cake, I could go on for days!" The exclamation earned a chuckle from the half German. "Favorite genre?" Mark started.

"Horror." - "Action." - "Cool, favorite beer?" - "Allergic." - "What?" - "Yeah, weird I know. You?" - "Eh, not really into beer." - "But you're a-" - "Irishman, har har, I know."

Jack rolled his eyes, finding it awfully amazing how normal this all was going and he could easily see Mark loosening up. But thank god they ordered waters.

They kept going at this, eating between questions as they progressively got more serious than things that began with 'favorite'. Mark's eyes had begun to twinkle when Jack asked as the 11th question what his ambitions outside of work were. 

"Well, you might find this weird but," his face broke out into a lopsided grin, "I like to star gaze."

Jack snorted, amused and confused. "In L.A.?" He's been here long enough to know there ain't a fucking dot in the sky at night besides the periodic airplane.

But Mark nodded, eyes still bright like he hadn't even heard him. "Yep. I know there's no real way to do so here but, I go to the planetarium on a lot of my days off. They're not real, per say, but they're as close to the real thing as I can get here..." His trailing off eyes found their way back to bore into Jack's. "I make it my 'business' to learn the constellations and certain stars. It's not for anything specific, but it's kinda a dream of mine to be proficient in the ways of space."

Jack's jaw almost dropped as they stared at each other, Mark must not have known what he was doing. He was talking about something he loved while looking a man who wanted to give that same love back. _Why he is so fucking perfect?_ And Jack could swear there was some desire swirling in those coffee eyes. Desire for something other than stars.

The questions fell from both Jack's and Mark's lips effortlessly from there on out and they learned more about each other than Jack thought he even knew about Felix. Like how Mark almost ran over a cat when he was seven with his bike and spent the whole next month trying to make it up to the cat by sneaking it tuna sandwiches from his house. And then there was this one time he was turning thirteen and he chased a clown, his uncle, across ten blocks with a water pistol because he hid his gifts. And it wasn't just a few events; Jack also learned he didn't much like music, he had a thing for cheez-its, he had a best friend and partner named Ken, and he lived with a pet dog called Chica.

And of course Mark found out some things about Jack. For instance, he recalled staying up for 72 hours straight with a friend back in college for a horror marathon and he almost pissed his pants five times. And then there was that day when Jack was 15 and a bully tried to pull a punch on him before he ducked just in the nick of time and everyone called him spider-man for a week. Next along side Mark's questions and answers he revealed he used to be in a band, which left Mark a bit speechless but he took it as a good thing. Jack recounted his love for heavy metal, his insane sweet tooth, his imaginary friend Sam from the 4th grade, and how much he loved nature, which Mark could agree on.

But as 'serious' as it got Jack never brought up the strange walk in the park from earlier that day, when Mark looked so broken talking about his parents who were soulmates but didn't stay together. It was still so much for Jack to wrap his head around, but he couldn't stand for him to run, or sprint away, again any time soon. 

"Okay, I don't know if I've been keeping track correctly but I believe this is the 20th question?" Mark asked. In reply Jack shook his head yes. "Alright, well, let me see..." His eyes lit up, "I got it. Say if the world was going to end in ten minutes what would you do?"

Jack gaped, thinking through the question. It was simple enough, right? He'd want to tell the people he loved most goodbye, he'd want to give them a good farewell, there'd probably be a lot of tears. His eyes lifted to Mark's after staring at the table for a few minutes. Mark was his soulmate. That was a simple fact, a magical idea, but a complicated reality. If he knew the end of the world would be in 10 minutes the last place he'd be, or ever want to be, is wherever Jack was. Jack wondered why that hurt so much. "Uh... I guess I'd try to call up my folks as soon as possible and tell them goodbye," he paused, still deciding, "Then I'd probably get a drink and sing kumbaya till the end." 

Stupid answer, but efficient, and Mark didn't seem to really mind when he answered, "Yeah, probably about the same but if I drank I'd probably die before the earth did so oh well."

They both giggled over the absurdity of it. _This game is going better than I thought it would._

Jack was about to ask the last question when he heard a ringing sound coming from Mark. He pulled out his phone and Jack could see the name Ken on the touch screen. "Oh, shit, sorry Jack I have to take this, it's my partner, it could be important."

He got up quickly, sparing a smile that lifted Jack's spirits. Mark went towards the front to answer it and Jack let the atmosphere set in. Things were going good, he had successfully gotten Mark to open up and he was loving every second of it. His chances of winning him over were becoming more concrete, he was positive. And to think he was starting to doubt fate agai-

"Amy..?"

Jack's eyes shot up to see Mark staring wide eyed and wonder struck at a blonde like she was the only person in the room.

_You had one job fate... One. Job._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out to xXKenzyKooXx for the restaurant name!
> 
> Sorry guys about the lateness of this all, I've just been pretty in the dumps lately and suffering a mild form of writer's block for it. But I do know where I'm taking this story! There will be some major action in the 12th chapter! :D
> 
> Please comment what you think! I respond every time, I love hearing what y'all have to say! Thank you all so much! Bye! <3


	10. The Perfect Goodbye and A Movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...uh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song dedicated to this chapter from Mark's thoughts about their break-up: Trading Yesterday - My Last Goodbye  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aiLUcESrF8
> 
> Song dedicated to this chapter from Amy's thoughts about their break-up: Carrie Underwood - Starts With Goodbye  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDsr4etJlwc
> 
> I really need to learn how to keep to a schedule with these updates. xD
> 
> I wish I was in Boston... GAHHHH... :0

_You're getting too close._ Mark's thoughts attacked him as he subsided from their brief laughing fit. Mark truly had no idea what he'd do if the world would end in 10 minutes, the question just popped in his head randomly. And now his mind was giving him a hard time for sharing too much. _He just wants to know me, he thinks we're destined to be together, remember? All I have to do is smile, play along. It's just a game._

His mind wasn't satisfied with the answer, and it made Mark weary peering at the Irishman as he came off his giggle high. Mark was starting to get used to looking in ocean blue eyes, staring at pleasant elfin features on a pale blushing face. His heart screamed perfect, his mind screamed it was a lie. Mark didn't know who to believe anymore, but he was a realist to the end. Jack was nothing but a man. A man who fell into his life by chance, not by fate. And Mark would let no amount of treacherous heart beats tell him otherwise.

Jack looked like he was about to say something when his phone rang. It was his partner. Quickly excusing himself he walked off towards the front of the restaurant and answered the call.

"H--, Mark, you need -- come back ---, the afternoon is over y-- took --- cruiser you bast---!" Ken's voice crackled over the receiver.

"Hey, Ken, sorry there seems to be a bad signal, could you repeat that?"

"--rk, don't give me ---- shit, I need you to-" Mark backed up to try to get a better signal, successfully bumping into someone. When he turned around to apologize it took everything in him not to panic.

"Amy...?" There she was... same bleach blonde hair with the yellow tint he once adored. _Wait,_ once _? The fuck?_ Her dark eyes were placed on his and he swore he must have looked like a gaping idiot.

"Mark?" She asked in a way almost like she was unsure it was him, even though it hadn't been all that long since they last saw each other. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes pulled away, scanning the restaurant where they were standing by the door. It was relatively empty, which Mark hadn't taken note of till then. His eyes followed hers, purposely not looking in the direction of his lunch date. _Date? When did this become a date? God damn Ken..._

Speaking of Ken... "Mar-, are you sti-- the--?" Mark remembered the phone attached to his ear. "Um, talk to you later Ken." He mumbled quickly, hanging up before his partner could get a word in edgewise.

"Mark? You're not here alone are you?" Amy asked, laced with confusion.

"Well I..." Seeing her face again was putting him through a whirl of emotions he didn't want to remember. _Fuck_. But he couldn't lie. "Uh, no, I'm not here alone. I'm actually here with-" He stopped himself when Amy's eyes narrowed curiously before falling on his wrist.

"Mark, your watch..." _Shit._ He grimaced, pulling his right arm behind is back, wanting more than ever for this nightmare to end. Seeing her was a piece of the past, a past she told him when they broke up how much she regretted.

Then, unexpectedly, pink glossed lips curled into a timid smile, shocked questioning eyes back on Mark's face. "You've met your soulmate, haven't you?" _Damn it. She's happy for me, isn't she?_ The question made his heart pick up speed, he never expected he'd have to have this conversation with _her_. And if she found out who it was...

"S-so, how have you been lately?" Mark asked hastily, changing the subject as he started to break out in a cold sweat. Her eyebrows knitted together but answered the question graciously. "I'm... I'm good, Mark. _How have you been?_ "

"Great... great," he swallowed hard, "You... haven't returned any of my calls?" As much as he was still trying to turn the subject around, it really stung that she had been ignoring him ever since they broke up.... at least it _did_. The sting was much duller now.

"I... was busy," she replied softly, smile waning, hands clasped awkwardly in front of her.

He didn't know what to say to that, so he took a moment to study her. She was wearing a long sleeved white shirt with the shoulders exposed, high-waisted navy blue jeans and sandals. He remembered this outfit, she used to wear it when they went on random little outings together after spending too much time indoors. His mouth worried his lip, a lump in his throat as a pained sigh escaped his ex.

"Mark..." But before she could finish he heard footsteps come up behind him, a thickly accented voice saying his name at the same time. Jack with nervous blue eyes was just feet away from this, admittedly, problematic situation.

 _Fuck, no, no, no._ He tried to send him a look with warning eyes to leave, but just then Amy took hold of the situation.

"Hi," Amy eyed his watch as well, full smile back in place, beaming at Jack genuinely, hardly even surprised, "You must be Mark's soulmate?"

Jack's eyes popped, but Mark saw him smile hesitantly. "Uh, yeah, my name's Jack. Ya must be Amy?" Mark wanted to die.

Her smile brightened, like she didn't expect him to know her. "Yes, it's great to meet you. Are you guys on a date?" Now he really wanted to die.

The Irishman's smile fell, mouth open to say something but nothing came out and Amy gave Mark a side glance that Mark could only guess was her way of saying 'what's going on?'. The panic in his chest only bloomed, looking back and forth between his ex and his supposed soulmate and It. Was. Hell.

"Jack..." Troubled blue eyes met brown and Mark tried to keep his composure, coughing 'discreetly', "Could you maybe wait back at the table?"

"Oh, yeah of course..." Thankfully Jack took the hint, quickly turning away before Mark could read his expression but he sounded crestfallen. He gave a small wave to Amy when she bid him an abrupt farewell and Mark was left speechless. He didn't bother to watch him retreat, but in the back of his mind he counted the steps he took back to their booth.

"What the hell's going on?" Amy inquired briskly, truly puzzled and it was everything Mark never wanted to talk about. Because she was a believer in fate like Jack, and Mark wasn't.

"I don't want to talk about—"

"He's your soulmate, right?" Her gentleness wore off, and honestly he expected it. Mark sighed, "You _know_ I don't believe in that."

That didn't faze her. "Mark," Amy spoke sharply now, Mark could feel the dread stir in his core, "What kind of game are you playing here with him?"

"It's just lunch, Amy." But even Mark wasn't very convinced by his words. "What did you expect I'd do when my watch hit zero? To fall madly in love with whoever I'd see? C'mon, be _real_ here."

"I am being real, this _is_ real," her dark eyes looked exasperatedly at him, "I thought it was all talk back then because you were with me. I had no idea you were serious about... about running away from fate."

"Amy," it wasn't often Mark felt like breaking down, but right now he did, "I-I don't even _know_ him... and before you ask if it's because he's a guy, _that's not it_ ," he rubbed the bridge of his nose, unable to look her in the eye anymore, "Wouldn't you run away from an arranged relationship too?"

She shook her head, like he was somehow blind. "Mark, you don't realize it now but you're talking yourself in circles. That's not what fate's about, it's-"

"Then what is fate about? Being _made_ for someone? God! Can't you see it's all a fucking trick?" Mark was losing his head, trying to keep his voice low and controlled, he didn't want Jack to hear their conversation. "I know you don't think I understand but... what if that's not what I want?"

Amy's gaze was hardened when their eyes locked again. "Don't say that..."

"Say what?" He challenged.

"That you want me, that you still love me," her eyes were now watering. _How did this all go so wrong?_ "I don't know what it feels like to have a soulmate, but _you do now_. You're just too damn stubborn to see it. I left you not just for my own future happiness, but for you're own. You must see that."

Her bottom lip was quivering and Mark tried to place the feelings within him, but all he found was old flames and dead ends. _She still loves me..._ The realization chilled his bones, he waited for his heart to soar, for some cry of relief or a burst of happiness, but there was none.

At most he should've expected some kind of crazed fever to take over him when she next asked quietly, but so forwardly, "Do you still love me?"

He looked away, speaking on impulse, "Of course-"

" _No_ , look at me," he did, "Do. You. Still. Love. Me? If you do, I'll stop pushing, I'll forget all about soulmates and we can be... together again... _But_ you have to look me in the eye and tell me the truth." She had gotten so teary eyed in a matter of minutes, the conviction in her words scared him half to death. And it honestly hurt, but it wasn't the kind of hurt he wanted.

 _Is this a trick question? What kind of answer does she want?_ It should be obvious, but it wasn't. Mark had been praying for a moment like this to happen, for Amy to take him back and things to just go back to the way they were. When things were less complicated. And for Christ sake he'd only known Jack since yesterday and he already changed so much of his thought process. Plus, wasn't it just yesterday when Mark thought Amy was beautiful but not his beautiful? She was everything, everything a guy could ever want, even a girl for that matter. But he only _saw_ it now, didn't _feel_ it. He didn't understand it before, he didn't know if he understood it now.

"I don't know..." He repeated what he told to Jack when he asked the exact same question. Amy's face contorted into a jumble of different emotions, resting on frustration and pain. He hated not being sure, he hated hurting her.

"Mark... I'm going to do something that might help you decide..." Conflicted, she stepped closer to him till her body was almost up against him and his wide eyes took in her slightly shaking petite frame. "Push me away if it's unwanted." He didn't know what she was talking about before she glanced behind his back antsy and then slid her thin wrists behind his head. Before he knew it she was drawing him into a chaste kiss.

 _No, no, no...._ For a second he was lost in the familiar sensation of her soft lips against his, but then... He pushed her away on instinct, an instinct he never felt before. It felt so wrong, so very wrong having her against him like that now and when her eyes opened back up he could see she knew why, she always knew. She smiled sadly at him, but it wasn't bitter.

"See? You felt nothing, didn't you? There's no connection, at least for you now. I... I still feeling something, I will admit that, but I won't forever," Amy lifted his chin up, he didn't even realize he was staring at the ground, "This was never meant to last, the love you felt for me wasn't strong enough, it never could be. We're... we're puzzle pieces that almost fit, but it wasn't... a _perfect_ fit. There are pieces of you I could never fill, and I know you know that. We would have resented each other if we went on any longer than we did."

Mark couldn't argue one word she said, inside, somewhere locked up from his own fear, he knew truth when he heard it. Didn't mean he liked it, however.

"Mark?" She continued speaking, "There's probably a million things running through your mind right now but... I think this would be best where we part ways, at least for now."

He nodded. "I," he gave a hollow chuckle, "I strangely agree, I don't know why, but I do. So," he looked at her again, so unmistakably beautiful, so unmistakably not what he wanted, "this is the perfect goodbye, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. But, maybe we'll see each other again someday? Maybe after I meet my soulmate." She seemed hesitant, but hopeful.

"Maybe," Mark agreed again. But, without even looking at her watch, he remembered it would be roughly another two years before she met her soulmate. "Maybe."

Her smile was back to the way it first was entering the restaurant, genuinely happy for him. "Well, then, Mark Edward Fischbach, I wish you the very best." She held a hand to shake his, which was a weird gesture all on it's own besides happening right after a kiss.

But he took her hand all the same, and they both said silent goodbyes with their eyes before he let go, and it wasn't just her hand he let go. He let go of her, their past, his fruitless love that he couldn't feel anymore. She walked off to find a table on the opposite side of the restaurant, she sat alone and he watched her order some Italian empanadas. Mark wondered if he ever did take Amy here back then if they would have ordered those together.

 _If only I met her again three days ago, before everything changed, before I met-_ Jack... Oh. My. God.

Spinning on his heel his eyes flashed anxiously falling on his booth with a crumbled up bill on the table but no Jack.

_What have I done?_

\--

Tears were glistening in his eyes, he felt somewhat pathetic pushing his green locks back with a shaking hand. He become so undone so quickly after he left the restaurant. _God, she kissed him. He kissed her._ Well, he didn't exactly know if he kissed her back, but he could only guess because as soon as it started Jack was half way out the back door. And it was raining, just his luck, so now he was looking back into his own eyes and at his drenched clothes and cold appearance.

He couldn't look at his reflection anymore, he walked out of the bathroom into the movie theater lobby. It wasn't far from Paragon so it was a fast walk there since Jack knew he wasn't in the right mind to hail a cab.

 _She was so nice to me, so accepting..._ But he didn't want to think about Amy of all people, no doubt she and Mark were having the time of their life together right now. And, really, he couldn't hold it against Mark to want her back, to stay with her. Jack had only known him for two days after all and Mark could only say one too many times how much he didn't want a soulmate.

He sighed shakily, scanning the new releases on the big posters; _action, action, horror, comedy, thriller, action,—romance._

On the poster was a girl and a boy—teenagers as per usual for this day and age—with their arms wrapped around each other in a striking, rather love-struck pose. The poster had a red tint to it, probably to give it that romantic vibe Jack was picking up as soon as his eyes landed on it. And in cheesy cursive lettering the title _Souls Alone_ was printed large and white across the center of their embraced bodies. Jack wasn't really into romantic movies, horror always his go-to choice, but now he felt a certain odd pull to see this particular one.

He shortly bought a ticket, hoping he didn't give the employee a scare with his bleary red-rimmed eyes and soaked clothes. The theater was mostly empty, reminding Jack how he joked Mark could clear a room...but it was just Jack now and he wondered if maybe it wasn't just him that could do it. _Because who could want to be around an Irish crybaby with foolish dreams of happily ever after, right?_

As the movie played it became evident is was one of those popular, overly used cliche soulmate movies. Soulmate movies were all the rage in the film industry, and though Jack believed in soulmates these kind of movies never held his appeal until now. But this movie, this movie seemed a bit different...a bit too close to home. Unlike the other soulmate movies where the protagonists ran into each others arms, kissing and shouting to the heavens that they finally met—these two didn't do that.

They didn't recognize each other at first glance, which Jack thought was odd, because that simply didn't happen in reality. But then the two kept bumping into one another, things started to click in place, things got... better. They talked, they laughed, they cried. It was a complete roller coaster and soon it was becoming all too much for Jack. Halfway through the movie he walked out, not wanting to know how it would end. Something was telling him the end would be too similar to his own, but he didn't know what that meant.

He walked outside, the clouds were still dark but there was no rain, and he decided it wouldn't be too terrible to walk back to the hotel. Plus, he didn't have plans to ever see Mark again after that fail of a lunch, he could only imagine how awkward it would be. He got him to talk, which was good, but fate didn't seem to be on his side anymore. Amy was everything Mark ever wanted, that much Jack could see after their first night drinking coffee and he got Mark to talk about her. Yes, he had seemed detached, but it was likely just a result of being away from her for so long. Now it was only too clear how much he wanted to still be with her, Jack wasn't stupid.

He had no chance now, he had no chance at—There was a flash of red in Jack's vision. He turned fully to see none other than Mark walking on the opposite sidewalk with brown mocha eyes sweeping the store fronts until they fell on Jack and it started to pour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amy's eyes are brown right? I looked at a bunch of pics but all I can tell is they're dark, but I'm guessing brown since people don't exactly have black eyes. And, ehem, for "future reference", what is Signe's eye color? I thought either green or blue?
> 
> Anyway, I think the best song to represent Mark and Amy's relationship is this: The Afters - Summer Again. Or, Alex and Sierra - Bumper Cars.
> 
> Shout-out to At_the_moment for the movie title! Hate me now? :3
> 
> BTW, no hate on Mark and Amy's relationship, they are literally #relationship goals, same goes for Jack and Signe, I love them all and that they're happy so send them all some love!! <3
> 
> Also, please comment cause it fills me with immense amounts of happiness! :D


	11. Hope is A Puzzle Worth Solving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Maniacal laugh*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song dedicated to this chapter: Coldplay - Miracles  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjdbXdTt48E
> 
> This was a hassle, but fun to write, so I hope y'all like it!  
> Right now I am writing the next chapter as we speak, too.  
> All I know is this took wayyy too long, 10 days, I'm so sorry.  
> Got to get my shit together, I know, geez, I'll try to do better.  
> Even though the next chapter won't be out right away, soooo...  
> Don't expect this to be ending anytime too soon, I have plans!!!  
> You will find a lot of spoilers in this chapter, some you've 'seen'.

_Goddammit..._

Jack was drenched once again as the sky poured down but Mark was by his side in seconds, crossing the street soaked head to toe as well. "Shit, Jack, let's get out of this rain."

They hurriedly rushed under the black canopy of a bookstore. Jack noticed Mark's hand lightly on the small of his back as they ran to cover, but it was gone before he could question it. He had enough questions, after all. "What are ya doin' 'ere?" Jack demanded, colder than intended.

"What do you mean?" Mark's features appeared slightly taken aback, but guilt betrayed his voice. "I've been looking around for you for a solid hour, why'd you leave?" He asked, as if it wasn't obvious why, still Jack didn't want to cop out right away.

"I just... needed to get out for a while."

Mark rose a brow. "For... an hour?"

"I wanted some fresh air."

"...it's raining, Jack."

That it was, and Jack could make out the individual raindrops glistening in Mark's hair, the red strands catching the blue glow seeping out from the bookstore's window. Sometimes Mark looked a bit too close to an actual god, an adonis in so many ways, that it was a bit unnerving to be so close to him. But he remembered it wasn't by Mark's choice they were so close, it was merely circumstance, and Mark could have so much better. Amy, for instance.

The Irishman sighed, picking up on Mark's silent question in his eyes left unanswered. "I saw you and Amy and then..." He hung his head, green waves washing over his eyes, unable to finish, suddenly choked up, because this really wasn't something he was good at. Confrontation be damned, it was too much.

"Oh," but Mark already caught on, "You saw that then?" Jack could only nod and Mark looked like he was having an inner dispute, making his coffee eyes shine something Jack couldn't depict.

"Jack, I think I'm going crazy right now because I don't know why I'm telling _you_ this, but I guess it just has to be said because it's true. Amy and I, we're... there's nothing between us more than the past. It just took this final account to really set that in me, I suppose. I didn't see it before, and after everything I shared about her with you, I thought.... yet I... I don't really get it but I didn't kiss her back-"

"Yeh didn't?" Relief colored his tone, his mind set reeling, his heart already lifting. _Mark didn't kiss her back._ That didn't change anything, Jack could practically sense Mark was about to say that, but _it did_. It changed a lot, for Jack's own sanity at least.

Mark huffed, like he considered Jack was only half hearing him, but nodded. "Yes but this still-"

"Doesn't change anything, I know," Jack said the words but didn't really believe them. Maybe fate wasn't a _complete_ prick. He fought off a smile as he gained his sliver of hope back. It was hanging on a thread, maybe, but it was enough for now.

There was a crack of thunder and a spark of lightning overhead before they finally decided it would be best to shelter in doors and again there was the light brush of Mark's hand over Jack's back that stole his breath. Jack was positive by this point it was unconsciously done but he wasn't complaining.

"God," Mark coughed, "This place is stuffy as hell." Cobwebs were strewn around stained oak wood bookcases, taller than Mark, which granted wasn't all that tall. The blue glow Jack recalled was emanating from a large antique light fixture on the ceiling, the blue bulbs in place of where candlesticks should've been. The place looked eerie for it being near evening with gray cracked walls and strange, other worldly nick knacks displayed sporadically. Jack randomly skimmed over the books all out dated, covered in dust and with titles in Spanish to Latin. Jack wasn't a huge fan of reading but he was sure most book stores didn't look like _this_.

The store looked to be empty of anything but dark shadows, abnormal objects and old books before they heard the frail voice of an elderly woman emit from behind one of the shelves. "Excuse me gentlemen, what can I help you two with?"

"Oh, sorry, we just came in to get out of the rain and—" The woman interrupted Mark with a wave of a hand, "Nonsense." She came around the bookshelf until Jack caught sight of her bronze, weather beaten face and a mischievous glint in clear aged eyes. "No one comes in here by accident."

Stepping towards them, she shelved a few frayed books from her satin covered arms and then turned to them again with a hard look as if trying to get a good read on the pair. "You two are not the type for books, are you?" But it was said more like a statement than a question.

They nodded their heads, unknowingly in unison, the rain hitting the window beside them a reminder they were stuck here for the time being. Jack kept in mind to be polite if he didn't want the woman to kick them out as they were obviously not customers, even if the store was a bit odd and Jack didn't want to stay much longer.

"Uh, well not exactly..." He confessed, timidly eyeing Mark who was standing with shoulders grazing against his.

The old woman nodded, not surprised, retreating to the front of the store where there was a clear glass counter Jack didn’t notice till then. She beckoned with a hand to follow and they silently obeyed. “So let me get this straight, you didn’t come here for books but you seem to think you came here for no reason?”

“Well there is a reason,” Jack started, but he was hushed the same as Mark was.

She regarded him coolly, a grainy smile curling on a wrinkled mouth. “You're right. There is _always_ a reason, sometimes you just can't see it right away. Nothing ever happens by chance, you'll be wise to remember that.” And with that she was leading them with another motion of her hand through a muted multicolored door framed with black trimming and symbols less then decoratively carved into the wood of the door.

Jack didn't have a clear idea as to why he was following her, but it was like something was pushing him down the short, narrow hall that the door opened up to. They drifted down the carpetless corridor and Mark looked just as curious as him as to where this eccentric old woman was heading. She didn't bother to look behind her back to see if they were following her, for soon enough they were outside another door, less regal then the last but more intimidating, bold with ancient designs. Pulling out a small key she pushed the door open till the dim light of the hall flowed into the pitch black room she brought them to.

This was looking sketchy as hell and Jack was starting to feel stupid for trusting this nameless woman dressed like some Hispanic gypsy. "You didn't lead us here to kill us or anything, right?" Mark voiced his thoughts, or at least his mild worries, half jokingly.

"Don't be silly, young man." She cackled softly, flickering an even dimmer light on and the room was flooded with a pale red gleam. A table came into view, fit with a deep violet cloth patterned in gold stars. Burgundy sheets were draped along the peaks of the otherwise bare walls. There was a large cabinet behind one of the chairs seated at the table and there was a single transparent, round ornament in the middle of the table as well. _The fuck, is that a crystal ball?_

"So which of you would like to go first?" She asked, sitting now on the chair facing them as they stood still in the small, closet sized room. Mark gave him a wide eyed look, apprehensive and confused of this just as much as Jack. Mark cleared his throat, "Go first at what?"

"To have your fortune read of course, dear boy. What else would I have brought you all this way for?" Her hands were placed on her head, adjusting the string of jewels on her forehead carefully till she was satisfied and peered at them knowingly with clear green hues like a cat. "Quick, please, decide. We haven't all day to wait, you have somewhere to be I surmise?"

Jack blinked. "What-," he paused. "That's not what we're here for. All we needed was a place to escape the rain from, like he said."

"Then why did you follow me?" _Well. She has a point._ "I don't know," he conceded, "Curiosity I guess?" She merely nodded, veering to Mark. "And you then? Why did you follow me?"

He shrugged his shoulders, same uncomfortable stance Jack adopted. "The same reason, I suppose." Once again, she smiled. "I see, but this is hardly coincidence. You seek something, I can sense it. You may not have come of your own accord to find it, but here you are and here I am. Now, how about you," she pointed to Jack, "you seem eager to know your own future. It's in your eyes. Let's have you go first then, shall we?"

 _Is this woman nuts?_ Something was telling him she was half crazy, half not. "Free of charge," she piped in, after examining their bewildered faces. But it really didn't matter because he was _not_ getting his bloody fortune told by some creepy woman in the broom closet of a possessed looking bookstore. No siree Bob.

"Sure, he'd love to get his fortune told," Mark answered for him, his eyes catching Jack's wide blue ones, "Wouldn't you, Jack?" Jack almost shook his head, because fuck no he didn't want to fuckin' talk to this lady about shit, but Mark gave him _that look_. Was there even a name for that look? It screamed, 'hey, just pander to the nut job, so we can, ya know, stay out of the storm'. Unless Mark actually believed in fortune tellers, but from his hatred of fate that was not very likely the case.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I would..." Jack trailed off, the perhaps gypsy, perhaps crazy psycho person, grinned like a cheshire cat. "Good, alright, your soulmate can wait outside, this is typically a private affair." Jack didn't even ask how she knew they were soulmates. Honestly, he wasn't that impressed, since almost every god damn person they met seemed to know that off the bat.

Mark was gone and the door was shut before he knew it, not even so much as wishing him good luck. That handsome red haired bastard. You know a guy for two days and already they're turnin' on ya.

"Lemme see your right palm," she suddenly ordered, all business, smile gone.

"Um, I don't really know what that has to do with-"

"Quiet," she shushed him. Again.

"Okay." Jack held out his outstretched palm, wondering why the hell he agreed to this. Or how he even got into this mess to begin with. He may have believed in soulmates and fate but he sure as hell didn't believe in heebie jeebie voodoo crap. Or whatever this shit was.

The woman studied his palm tentatively, tracing the lines with a crooked finger, pressing down on points of his hand where faint veins showed and where lines ended. Jack never felt so self-conscious about his own hand before. It was several more moments of studying his hand before she spoke again. "Your heart line... that's unexpected, it's straight, perfectly parallel to your head line."

Jack's eyes widened. "And what does that mean exactly?"

"It means you do well with feelings, have a good grip on your emotions, then again this only is telling me your past."

"My past?" She nodded. "Don't fret, young man, we'll be looking at your future soon," she gave his right hand another once over, "Ah, your head line, it's slightly curved, separate from your life line. Good, good. Do you have a rather creative job?"

"Uh, yeah, actually I do—well, I guess. I'm a game developer so it kinda comes with the territory," he answered, feeling an uncomfortable itch under his skin. "Why do ya ask?"

"Your head line represents how you act, learn, and how you tend to think. You've been a very creative person, very passionate. Hmm, let me see, I should check your life line to see... indeed, as I predicted..." Jack was going to have a heart attack if this fortune teller didn't stop speaking all ominous like.

She continued on, "Yes, it has a general curve, quite exuberant. You're, or at least have been, a person very full of energy, with a zest for life. Very compliant with life and with fate, I believe. You have a deep trust with fate, don't you? You let it take full control of your life. And your heart line, it didn't make sense before, but now, I can see it. In the past, you've had no need for getting over emotional, you've been unattached," she leaned in faintly.

"I can see that has changed, your eyes look somewhat soft, like a storm is settled there, like you may fall in love easily... but not just with anyone. Fate can be a funny thing, with the technology we have now. You've been waiting... Yes, _yes_ , I was right, you've found him."

She was staring in his eyes now, they glowed like green emeralds against the red of the room. He felt... felt what? Weirded out? Maybe. But really... _How, how does she know that just from a few lines on my fucking hand?_ Lucky guess, of course, just a lucky guess.... right? Fate didn't work this way, it _couldn't_ work this way. To understand a person and their traits after examining parts of their body. Preposterous.

But fuck, Jack would lie if he said he didn't have goosebumps right now.

"Not to mention your fate line, which not all people have," she added on, taking what felt like the 100th look at his palm, "it's very well pronounced, a deep line, down the center of your hand. It only proves what I've said. Now, let's see your left hand. As you may have figured out by now, it represents your future."

With a sharp intake of breath, he was offering her his left palm, which was readily examined the same as the last. However, it took less time before she began speaking again, and of course Jack could still barely understand how she did what she did or if she was just pulling it all out of her ass. "Hmm, they are almost all different, not uncommon, but... oh.. oh, dear."

"Oh, dear?" _Oh dear what?!_

She passed him a mildly concerned glance. "The lines across your heart line, they represent emotional trauma. And there's a circle on the line, which can either mean a deep loneliness, depression, grief, or sadness will come your way. The line itself is curvy, long, that's good. You'll expression emotions freely and clearly one day. Though, it's hard to tell when."

"What, what about the rest of my lines?" Jack asked frantically, trying to hide his sudden earnest. _I'm falling way too far into this rabbit hole. What the hell is coming over me?_

The gypsy like woman scrunched her nose, bringing his hand a few inches closer to her cat eyes. "Mhmm, the head line, same type of line as before, you will still be inventive, creative, imaginative....but...there are crossed lines in it, you'll have...a breakdown of sorts, maybe, an emotional or inner crisis. You're battling something, something you don't know if you'll win. It's powerful, life changing. There are multiple crosses, you'll be faced with many decisions, all important to the ultimate outcome. Do you have any idea of what you could be facing?"

"N-no," Jack stuttered, lying. A battle...a crisis...his mind fighting his heart, him trying to win Mark over. Apparently his hands had a better idea of what he was going through than even he did.

With slitted cat-like eyes, he knew she didn't believe him, but she went on, "Ah, precisely, your life line is nearly the same, you will still have plenty of energy, this line though has a break. Which means there will be an abrupt change in the ways you live, in your life. Also a circle, I, I am so sorry, there will be an... injury, likely a hospitalization, something will happen to you... I don't know what, it could be small, but if it was it usually wouldn't show up... am I upsetting you?"

If Jack could see his face he could only guess the uneasiness it showed, he told himself he didn't believe in this, when did he start to listen and care what this fortune teller was selling him? He only shook his head no.

"Okay, I'll be as quick as I can on the rest. Your fate line is still deep, you will still be under control of fate, but it does break like the life line. It also changes direction, this signifies a change in your life by external forces. Something out of your control, out of anyone's control, will happen...soon...maybe not soon. It's impossible to tell, I'd have to use other methods to-"

"No, no, that's fine! Just fine, I really don't think we have the time to do that anyway," Jack spoke quickly, and the world felt like it was spinning. He was never one who wanted control over his life, but now the world felt small, he felt small. Nothing felt right at all and he felt his face drained of color, chilled to the bone at a table full of stars.

Her hands let go of his and he was stumbling out of the chair, almost tripping on the roman styled rug beneath his feet. Mark couldn't be that far away from there, that is if he didn't leave Jack in the dust and-

"Wait, I think I'm getting something more," she declared as if on the brink of a break through or hysteria itself, her hands now on the crystal ball that he strictly ignored. Her eyebrows were furrowed harshly, eyes shut, her whole face scrunched up like she was having a hard time thinking properly, or she was thinking way too much. Whatever it was was scaring the shit out Jack in that moment, like she was titling on an axis, in and out of some dream world or trance, but the ball remained transparent.

And then... she spoke, just above a whisper, voice strained in delivery, and it was going to be something he both forgot almost instantly, and never be able to erase from his mind. _"This is going to be one hell of a roller coaster, so join the club, it wouldn't be a crime, don't get lost in the waves and live for the unexpected headlights to come as we face an earthquake of situations in April showers standing by the signs of life."_

Well... that was underwhelming.

Jack rolled his eyes, politeness diminished. "Those sound like the shittiest song lyrics I've ever heard."

Her eyes opened, a wide range of emotions went through them. But they finally landed on his, with a deep empathy he wasn't at all expecting. "If only they were."

No malicious chuckle, no maniacal laugh. The ominous atmosphere was starting to creep him out and he almost finally turned to leave when she got out of her chair and opened the cabinet. She spent a few seconds rummaging through it before finding whatever it was she was looking for. "Ah, here we go." She came around to face him with a silver, hand crafted necklace in the shape of a puzzle piece on a thin chain.

He waited for some long winded ancient tale or for her to start speaking of some sacred prophecy to do with the necklace, but he was given none. No 'this necklace gives all good luck to those who wear it', or some other bullshit Jack would see right through. Instead, he was simply handed the necklace, the cold thin surface glaring the red gleam of the room on his hand.

"This necklace symbolizes la esperanza," she clarified the unasked question Jack was pondering.

"What does 'la esperanaza' mean?"

She smiled, it was unlike any other smile she gave before. "It means _hope_."

Jack frowned, not completely understanding. "Why are ya giving me this?"

"Dear boy, you are on the verge of something fantastic, a journey to discover if something is even possible. But you won't be alone, the man with the red hair may help you or may not help you. But he will be there, this journey will not last long, but it will feel like an eternity. I cannot tell you how it will end, even the spirits don't know for sure. But it will be entirely your own, your own destiny. You will need hope if you have any chance of getting the outcome you want."

Hope. That's all Jack ever wanted. A reason to keep fighting, the fire in his core to think maybe, _maybe_ his chances with Mark weren't completely in vain. But there was more to it than that. There was a lot more to it than that. He held the necklace now in a fist, he almost didn't want to accept this gift from the fortune teller with crazed green eyes. But he did, somehow he knew this was just the confidence he needed.

"Thank you, I don't really know what ta think of this whole... encounter. But thanks, I'll, I'll take good care of it." _Because who knows how long this has been around._

"I know you will," she glided around the table, pulling the door open for Jack in a fluid manner, "if you don't mind, send your soulmate in for a moment?"

\--

The clouds were beginning to clear as Mark was leaning on one of the bookcases by the windowpane. There wasn't much to do but wait out the last remnants of the storm to pass while his supposed soulmate got his... fortune told. It was still all too much to grasp, mentally speaking. He thought Jack would have been jumping for joy over the revelation that he could be told his future, yet he didn't seem too into it when it came down to it. Not that he didn't agree, the redhead hated the idea completely and fully. Anything to do with that may have been 'interesting', but it just wasn't something he wanted to mess around with.

Fate was a big enough pill to swallow on it's own to be paired with magic, ghosts, goblins, and card tricks. Tricking Jack into getting his done and over with first might have been a bit of a low blow, but Mark might have gotten a bit too panicked surrounded by things he didn't _get_.

It was around 15 minutes before Mark felt a presence behind him after he left him in the backroom. Jack was standing rigid, paler than usual, but nonetheless gorgeous. _Gorgeous?_ Eh, he was trying to get used to thinking another man was attractive in _that_ way. But realizing that bit about his sexuality was still easier to face than the green haired man being meant for him. Like Mark would ever start to actually believe that. No matter what his friends, or even Amy, told him, he didn't want to hear it. Utter nonsense, if you asked him.

"She wants to see yeh, not to get yer whole fortune told or anythin', but, I dunno really," Jack said, arms folded together, eyes averted like he was trying to avoid something. Did he really believe what the old woman told him? _Come on..._

Mark nodded, expecting something like this, giving one last look out the window. "I guess it couldn't really hurt," he decided, resigned to his fate-- no his choice.

The woman was waiting for him inside the room when he went back down the hallway. It really was such a gloomy, poorly lit place she worked in, you'd expect her to be half blind or having vision like an owl. She sat with such a complacent expression, it really pissed him off but he tried to stay polite. "The storm's starting to turn away, thank you for your hospitality and for allowing us to wait it out but we really have to-" Yet, wow, what a shocker he was interrupted.

"Come on in, sit down for a spell, at least before you go." She waved to the seat at the purple table, smiling wildly. This must have been such a fun game for her to play, harass people with thoughts of their happy fortunes that may or may not come. Mark didn't find it fun at all, he remained standing just outside the red tinted room.

"I'm alright out here," he remarked steely, "You may have my-- friend-- fooled, but I don't believe in this kind of stuff, alright? I'm just here to offer my thanks and have that be that. I'm sure you understand."

"Young man, you are quite the character," she reflected, titling her head back to observe him head on, "but I don't believe it's arrogance that has persuaded this attitude. If you don't mind, may I have a quick look at your palms? I promise, it will be fast, and I will not bother you again with my inquiries."

They seemed to embark upon a strange staring contest after she spoke, both trying to decipher the other one's thoughts. Mark thought she was spewing bullshit, but her expression was well schooled now. He was quickly caving, this day was exhausting as is. With all the drama of the morning, the sleepless night, Ken being an overall very unhelpful friend, the park, the conversation, and then Amy. Too much. Just dreadfully too much for one day and now _this_.

"Fine," he caved, maneuvering into the chair like it would steady him, and the panic just below the surface. "But just one look, I hope you know you won't be able to change my mind."

She ignored his comment and took ahold of both of his hands at once, almost ruthless in the way she studied them. It was disturbing to witness, he found himself looking around the room for somewhere his mind could escape. But she inevitably must have found what she was looking for from him. "Your lines, they are much different from your soulmates, excuse me, your _friend_. I guess you don't want me to get into all the specifics of it, but your heart line on both palms is the same as his."

"Okay, and?" Mark tried hard not to retract his hands.

"But your first head line, it's the same as your future one. You think clearly, you're focused... realistic, headstrong... ah, but you also have much emotional trauma from both. Now the swoop of your right life line means you have had strength, but something tells me you haven't been using it well. You are stubborn, and the break in both your future and your past lines shows you've had and will have changes in your lifestyle."

Mark sighed. "Can you at least try to make some sense?"

"Look, kid, do you want me to finish reading your fortune or not?" The fortune teller stared him down again, but Mark wasn't in the mood to piss off any ancient spirits. Not that he believed in that anyway.

"Just continue," he relented.

She glared one last time. "I don't take kindly to insults, I'll have you know, but because I want to help you I will continue. Now, let me take a look at your... mhmm, you have a fate line as well, on both hands even. Your first one is very faint, shallow even, but it's joined with the start of your life line. You are self-made, you rely on choice, on control... you crave no power, but to dictate your own life... but your other fate line, your future fate line is quite the contrary. It's a deeper contrast, with a break the exact same as your-- friend. You've been running from something, but it's catching up. You can't run forever, young man. But I think you already know that."

There was a shift in her voice, like she was speaking of the utmost importance, and Mark didn't like it one bit. He tried to ignore the unfailing tone of what she said. The inevitability of it. The panic only increased in his bloodstream, but the angry ran faster.

"Well, that's just _great_. Wonderful intellect, superb," His words dripped heavy sarcasm, "I'll be sure to keep _all_ of that very smart insight in mind."

The gypsy like woman didn't seem to like that, giving a small scowl. "You don't have to believe me, _dear boy_ , but I never lie to the people I read... it would be bad for business."

Mark wanted so badly to roll his eyes, but before he could the disgruntled old woman was out of her seat searching inside the large cabinet. "You don't really deserve this, but I pride myself in being a gracious being, so here you go." With cat eyes blazing, Mark was handed what looked like a gray jigsaw piece shining on a long chain. A... a necklace?

Mark's eyebrows knitted together. "Why did you hand me a necklace?"

"I won't go into the details, but you will find the answer on the front of the building. Now be off with ya, your soulmate must be waiting." She gave him one final knowing smile. Mark didn't know how to describe it other than smug.

With no more words exchanged he left the room, seemingly floating down the hallway with the necklace now stuffed into the pocket of his jeans. He tried not to think too much about what the old woman said, some of it actually made sense when he let it digest. But most of it sounded too foreboding and direful. So why did he take the necklace? Fuck if he knew. But a part of him knew he wasn't about to let go of it anytime soon, something about it was almost special. Like it meant more than just a piece of fashioned jewelry.

Jack was in the same place he had been, leaning against the stained oak with eyes fixated on the thankfully cloudless sky. Mark was sure he hadn't been more than five minutes, but he stayed in the shadows of another bookcase for a moment to survey the Irishman's expression. He looked oddly serene, the calm before the storm. His wide orbs were as ocean blue as ever, after just two days he knew he'd never be able to get them fully out of his head. Mark noticed how he started walking a bit too close to him, it was never intentionally done but he noticed it. In the back of his mind, maybe it was intentional. But he had enough thinking of that for one day.

"Hey, looks like the storm's cleared," Mark voiced, which seemed to startle Jack out of his relaxed composure. It was almost cute how flustered he could get. Almost. Okay, more than almost.

"Yeah, is your cruiser still back at the restaurant?" Jack ruffled his forest hair. Mark nodded. "'Course."

Outside the sun was placed lower in the sky than to begin with, Mark looked up beyond the black canopy and there it was, the sign of the bookstore in smooth block letters: _La Espernaza_. Mark searched the recesses of his high school memory in Spanish class. The word meant hope. _Hope... is that what the necklace is meant to personify?_

Hope to make it out of this intact? Hope to forget the attractive man with the luring accent to leave his life with no chance of ever seeing him again? Was that the hope he wanted. Yes... no... _yes_.

Yes, of course it was, Mark didn't know why he was beginning to doubt himself. There was no reason to doubt himself. He would make his own choices. Forget 'emotional trauma', he wasn't about to let fate take control of his life and destroy his life. That may have been his biggest fear. No control.

Mark took Jack back to his hotel, they said pleasant goodbyes but Mark didn't have the energy to take him up to his room. At least that's the excuse he gave. Really, he could already tell... this week was going to be half heaven, half hell. And there was no control there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaysus, tis was a fierce day of writin', a haype of meh fingers baytin at the keyboard. Aye, all ya better whist, stop yer bullin'.  
>  _The fuck did I just say..._
> 
> Shout-out to Mercedes for the bookstore and both necklaces's name!
> 
> Yes, these ARE the friendship necklaces that Mark and Jack got from a fan. This will not be the last you see of the necklaces!
> 
> Extra long chapter for y'all, I had to do some research for all this stuff about fortune tellers, but really I only did the basics. Please comment what you thought of everything and if you liked it! I know I still have a lot of ghost readers out there so I hope y'all could comment at least a lil' something for me, I would metaphorically die of joy! And thank you to all of you who have commented in the past and kept with this story of mine! You guys are awesome. ┌(◕‿◕)┘ ♡❤♡❤♡❤♡


	12. Mr. Fiery Floof Fitted In A Suit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He's back_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know I did say the 12th chapter would be the super action packed one but I had to move it to the 13th. This chapter is important in building up the next however!  
> The next one is almost done with anyway.  
> Writer's block be damned now! I'm on a roll! :)

_**You've been running from something, but it's catching up.**_

_Mark tossed and turned tirelessly in a wave of sheets, tangled through his legs, looped across his arms. In his dream he was running through a forest of blue and green, emeralds and sapphires alike. A pair of gypsy eyes... then, brilliant blue, now empty ocean hues._

_**You can't run forever, young man.**_

_Stones along the shore of a sea of salt tripped him up, time and time again. He fell, just to scramble back up, running against the current that didn't exist. Twisting in a tidal wave, a tidal wave he couldn't see. A laugh, a beautiful laugh prettier than a bell, gone._

_**But I think you already know that.**_

_The fear, the fear was eating away at the tips of his fingers, scorching his sides with the embers of denial. He fought in vain, water rained down from above, he sank like lead. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Blinding lights and then the darkest crimson._

He sat up in bed with a breathless scream, voice hoarse, eyes blinking rapidly. It was just... a dream, a nightmare. Nothing more... nothing less. What he didn't expect was for those blasted fortune teller's words to haunt him. For them to spell out his very night terrors. And the images... vivid, beautiful, horrendous. Made no sense. _What time is it...?_

_2:37 A.M._

And just like that the night became another one of those long, nearly sleepless nights. Eyes wide awake as the sun rose. He did manage a few hours in, but this was beginning to be a problem. And he couldn't avoid work forever, he was a cop, he had to get back out there. Which is exactly what he did.

"For the love of god where have you been?" Ken asked as Mark strode on into work with the same sulky appearance as the morning before. At this rate, and with this attitude, Mark figured he had almost no shot at getting the promotion now.

"Not in the mood Ken...," he picked up a few new cases, filing through them, all petty theft, " _Damn it_... And why are you even here? Shouldn't you, I don't know, be getting ready for your wedding in three days?"

Ken settled in a chair by Mark's desk when he sat down, slumped like a dead rock. "Yeah, I do, I just needed to speak to you first and since you apparently turned off your phone last night _and_ hung up on me, thanks a lot for that by the way, I kinda had to come in today or otherwise barrel down your door with a shotgun. But, I know how ya don't like that." His partner smirked, smugly.

"Fine, fine, god Ken," Mark groaned, lackluster in nature. "I'm sorry about hanging up, there was static, a bad signal, 'kay? Now just speak, god damn..."

"Well, since I _obviously_ have your full exhausted attention, I was hoping you'd be ready to get yourself fitted for your suit. As the best man you do realize you're gonna have to wear something other than your uniform and plaid. Sorry to say, but you _need_ to wear a tux, no arguing!"

Mark gave him a weary smile, still inwardly cursing himself for accepting to be his partner's best man. Sure, Ken was his brother from _thankfully_ another mother, but it was gonna be hell to prep for this impromptu wedding _and_ keep his supposed soulmate occupied with his rapt attention. The attention he just wasn't in the mood for giving as it turned out.

"Ken, I would love to do that," _no I wouldn't_ , "But I _kinda_ have previous engagements." Engagements that hopefully involved a french vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso.

The burly man raised his eyebrows. "What engagements? You have no friends Mark, none that you see anyway. I'm all you have and an oversized golden retriever, who honestly could be the ring bearer because Mary's niece is fucking _mean_. She's pulled on my beard _twice_ and called me young Santa Clause!"

Mark stifled a tired laugh. "Okay, I'm afraid Chica's no good at keeping things on her nose for a long period of time, so I can't help you there, but my 'engagement' is with someone you don't know."

His partner grinned wolfishly. "Oh my god Mark, you are going out with your soulmate _again_ , aren't you?" he whisper-yelled.

"No, no, not going out-going out, just _going out_... for coffee again, actually."

"Well, then, can't you get yourself fitted _after_ your coffee date?"

Mark shook his head, sighing dolefully. "First of all, _not a date_ and... well, it's complicated." More complicated than anyone else needed to know. Ever.

"Mark," Ken sighed, "I don't care that your soulmate is a man, and I know you told me you don't either. But in the past, I know you haven't been as... accepting of the idea of things being out of your control. And with this wedding being a soulmate match, I know it's hard for you to be wrapped up in it. It was selfish of me to ask you to be a part of this but, _I know you_. And you have been my best friend and a great guy for as long as I have known your serious ass. I don't know how you're _dealing_ with having a soulmate, but I'd like to meet him. If you just gave me a chance. You can bring him along to the fitting even, if you're okay with that. The appointment's at 12:30, at Tim and Sam's Suit Shop."

Mark didn't want to accept, didn't want to accept in the least. But.., _damn Ken for being a fucking nice and understanding person._

"I'll think about it okay? I promise, just, just I need to get out of here," Mark stood up from his desk, the exhaustion wanting to pull him back down, "I'll call you if I decide to bring him along, if not I may need to just wear one of my old suits."

Ken scoffed. "You mean that suit you last wore to that cocktail party I forced you to go to a year and a half ago? No thanks, I think I'll try my chances with you going in your birthday suit."

"Ah, don't want me to be the center of attention on your special day, now do we?" Mark said with a half grin, "Oh, sorry about stealing our cruiser yesterday, I'm about to take it again." He sauntered off as quick as his stiff limbs could take him before Ken made a quip back or cursed him out.

There was no desk work to be done, so he was free from those metaphorical chains. Not that it stopped him the day before from getting out of it. Yet now he almost regretted that with all the chaos it ensued, but what's done is done.

As pretty much expected at this point, Smol Beans was mainly empty all but for a chipper man with a shock of green hair and now a redhead with a severe case of 'I just want to go back to sleep'.

The Irishman shook his head sympathetically, yet bemused when Mark finally got his coffee and sat down at their, now, accustomed seating. "Mark, do yeh _ever_ get any sleep?"

"What, do I really look that bad?" Mark questioned, suddenly self-aware. _Could've sworn I combed my hair this morning, like five times..._

Jack lowered his eyes, a blush on the apples of his cheeks. "Well... I wouldn't say _that_."

 _Cute_.... _shut up_. Mark swallowed a lump in his throat, "So-"

"Can I... ask you something Mark?"

Mark blinked slowly. "Uh, yeah... I mean yes, of course, go right ahead," he gave a wry smile, praying it wasn't too tense, "Ask away."

But Jack kept his eyes averted all the same, voice shy enough it was barely audible. "I just need to know um, why are ya even here right now? Like, I know I asked yeh to come but you didn't really 'ave to say yes. Lunch yesterday I asked ya if this was all just done out of pity, and yeh didn't really give me a precise answer. I don't wantcha to think you 'ave some duty to me or nothin'. I like yer company, it's great in fact, yet I kinda feel like ye're pretty closed off right now... more than ya were at Paragon, and I don't know why? I don't want ya to force yerself to be around me for my sake if it just makes you uncomfortable."

Mark sighed when soft blue orbs met back with his. He must have been throwing the poor guy through a loop with all of his rapidly changing mood swings and behaviors. It wasn't like it was a regularly occurring thing before, but now everything was just a lot out of Mark's realm of understanding. This wasn't his fortitude, talking to someone he never planned to meet but had no choice in meeting. And, that made the _superbly_ confident Mark an unsure heap of awkward.

 _If only you knew the half of it._ "I'll be honest, Jack, getting to know you was... a lot more fun than I thought it would be, and the most fun I've had in a long time... I don't really hang out with many people these days in all truthfulness. Being with you was like... I guess a breath of fresh air? But then seeing Amy, well it kinda messed with my head a little. I want to be... your friend if I can Jack, like you said I could be. That is, if the offer still stands?"

He didn't think it was possible for the smaller man to look any more attractive, but with the quickly blossoming smile that gathered on his lips, he looked extraordinarily radiant. A true burst of sunshine Mark never thought he needed.... _Still_ didn't need, his mind bit back.

"The offer still stands," ocean eyes sparkled, precious impish smile in place, "I'm gonna be the best damn foreign friend ya ever 'ad, too."

Mark smiled almost woefully at that, relishing in this moment because it was likely not to last so picture-perfect. Sure, he was willing to be friends... for now. But once Friday came, Jack would be gone, and Mark had to prepare for that. Little to the green-haired man's knowledge, Mark had no plans beyond the end of these five days to ever see him again. So he just smiled, because that was as good as it would get.

They finished their coffees talking about nonsense topics, starting from the weather, somehow ending up on Lady Gaga's wig choices. It was all harmless, idle chatter, and it was easier to slip into than Mark ever thought would have been possible a couple days ago. He tried to ignore how much fate was playing a hand in his life right now... this was still his choice to be here. Well, whatever helps you sleep at night, though doesn't seem to, right?

"Nah, the best hair she's ever worn was _definitely_ red," Mark declared, decidedly.

"That's just cause yer biased, Mr. Fiery Floof."

Mark sputtered on his coffee, snickering. " _Mr. Fiery Floof?_... that may just be the weirdest nickname I've ever been called."

The Irish-born huffed, rolling his darling eyes clearly, "Oh really? I betcha I could come up with _way_ worse."

"You wouldn't dare."

He stuck his tongue out playfully, this was the most confident Mark had seen the Irishman be yet. "Watch me." 

Mark was beyond himself trying not to laugh as Jack listed off a wide range of ridiculous nicknames for the ravenette, including 'Markifluff', 'Red Wasabi', and 'Senpai Markimoo'. But Mark's personal favorite was 'Markiplier'. Though he had no idea why.

The tiredness wore off gradually as if it was as easy as a roll of the shoulders. Again, it was either some magical component in the coffee or Jack's infectious energy because Mark could hardly believe any amount of caffeine could pump enough adrenaline and calm into his system to forget all of his nightmares. Maybe Jack's vibe was more vibrant, and more impactful, than Mark could let himself believe.

Or someone spiked his latte with seven five hour energies. Yep, much more believable.

In the middle of Jack challenging him to a rather intense game of rock paper scissors for who would pay for the next batch of coffee, there was a buzz in the red-head's back pocket. _Ken..._ He held in a groan, but his face must have said enough. "Everythin' alright?"

"Yeah, just gotta answer this call real quick..." He paused, phone glaring in his hand... it was after 12 o'clock, they'd been there all morning. And the fitting was in 10 minutes... Jack looked at him confused. "Arentcha gonna get that?"

Mark swallowed, loosening the collar of his uniform. "Uh... Jack," _here goes nothing_ , "I'm going to a wedding in 5 days for my partner and his sou--fiance, and I just so happen to be his best man and I need to go to a fitting right now and I was... well, I ... what I'm trying to say is-"

"You want me to come along to make sure you look dapper as fuck, am I correct?" Jack finished for him, albeit somewhat cheekily, somewhat shy.

 _Well that's certainly one way of putting it._ "Uh, I guess-- pretty much," Mark smoothed over, smiling sheepishly, "If you want to that is, I know this is your vacation and all-"

"Mark," hues so lively blue twinkled, "Someone has to make sure you know what ye're wearin'."

\--

Jack knew nothing about fashion.

Not. A. Single. Thing.

He'd been using every ounce of extrovertism that he had in him to get this far with the adonis to begin with. And boy, was it getting to be fun to talk to someone and be as social with them as much as with Felix. Who, by the way, needed to stop sending so many kissy faced and eggplant emojis whenever Jack brought up on Skype that he was no longer spending his vacation alone.

But even though Jack had no experience to do with 'what to wear and how to wear it', quite frankly he knew Mark didn't ask him to come along for his 'expertise'. That was merely Jack's clever way of not making Mark spell it out for him: He wanted Jack to come. And Jack couldn't be happier to oblige, he felt like the pieces were finally falling into place more than ever and now there were less boundaries to fight against. All he had to do was make Mark fall in love with him and he had three and a half days left to do that. So really, it was now or never to layer on the charm.

What charm you may ask? _Good fucking question._

While Jack got lost in his head Mark was currently in a dressing room trying on his first suit. Jack waited for him with his right knee bouncing, seated on a leather armchair in front of three brightly lit mirrors meant for the customers to... strut in front of maybe? Jack wasn't into flashy stuff all that much, vying rather for t-shirts and denim any day, but he tried to remain looking like he belonged in a place like this while wearing a gray beanie, red skinny jeans, and a sweatshirt that said 'Loud, Proud, Drunk, Irish' on it. Yep, it _screamed_ professional.

"Ow! Hey, can you try to poke me somewhere that's _not_ my spleen?" Ken's irritated voice traveled over the whole store from where he was surrounded by two employees, one of them a tailor pinning needles into the southerner like he was a human pin cushion. Jack giggled when he got poked again and the cop shot a glare at him, hearing the mocking laughter. "Oh you think this is funny, huh Jack? How 'bout you try getting yourself pricked by a hundred- Oow!" Jack almost fell over laughing. "Screw you, you Irishman! You're lucky I'm a cop or you'd be so- JESUS CHRIST LADY LEARN HOW TO FRICKIN' SEW YOU SADIST."

Safe to say Jack and Ken got along as soon as they were introduced.

When his laughter finally died down and Ken's tailor finally got switched in for someone else, Mark cautiously came out of the dressing room and.... Jack willed his jaw not to drop.

Keep in mind, Jack had never been out shopping with girls before besides his sisters, so he never knew what it was like for a man to be waiting on his girlfriend to try on a dress, have her ask if it made her look fat, then have her boyfriend sacrilegiously compliment her just for her to try on another ten dresses. He dodged a bullet there, really. But that only meant that now, even after all the movies he's seen, Jack didn't think the experience was... half bad. All things considered, Mark probably wasn't going to ask if the suit made his ass look too big.

The suit was sharp-looking, smart, and well fitted for the German Korean's somewhat buff, somewhat short build. It had a black sheen, was bold across the shoulders, lean at the waist, and it showed off his toned upper body as well as his legs with the matching slacks. You could see a peak of the white button-up shirt beneath the jacket, all it was really missing now was a tie. In other words, Jack's definition of perfect.

"So, Mr. Suave, not too shabby right?" Mark joked in front of the full length mirrors, but his eyes were fixed rather on the reflection of Jack's blue ones than on his own form. If he was seeking some type of invertedly asked approval, he didn't have to not-ask twice.

"As I said, I knew with my help you'd look dapper as fuck," Jack replied in kind, knowing as much as he wanted to be that fawning boyfriend to his soulmate, they were not dating. They were hardly considered friends at this point. Jack did not want to push his luck in this back and forth game either. Because yes, this was still very much him joining the 'motherfucking soulmate hating club', like he professed to before.

 _So join the club, amiright?_ Heh... déjà vu.

Mark snorted, giving his reflection a proper look, fixing the cuffs on the sleeves like he was a perfectionist. "Eh, it's alright."

"Just alright? The fook are ya talking about, it looks _great_ on ya!" Jack slapped a hand over his mouth and he saw Mark's cheeks tint red in the mirrors. He fixed the cuff on his sleeves more anxiously. _Fuck... too late to say no homo, isn't it?_

"Um, thanks Jack."

Jack mentally face palmed. "No problem..."

It was another two hours before Ken had finally gotten his tux tailored to perfection, making it out alive with shallow wounds in the shape of pin-prick holes along his arms, legs, and... presumably other places. Mark tried on a few other suits during this whole time and although all were very drool worthy, the first one was the winner and part of Jack wanted to blame it on his outburst of opinion. Sigh... the friend zone was a hard place to be. In search of food they left Tim and Sam's for a late lunch/early dinner. Linner. Dunch. Whatever.

"Oh my god, you can't be serious," Ken gawked at Jack, "You have _never_ had food from a food truck? Where have you been living?!"

Jack shrugged. "I dunno, Ireland?"

"Well, you are having good old fashioned greasy street tacos whether you like it or not," the man with the beard commanded.

"Wait, I will like it, right?" Jack asked with comically wide eyes, earning a chuckle from the adonis.

"Probably, street food is as good as any if not better," Mark said, already abandoning the group in favor of a food truck labeled colorfully with the words BLD in striking graffiti styled art. He came back with what looked like a basket-plate full of fried eggs, bacon, a piece of steak, mashed potatoes, a roll, and mac n' cheese along with a few other sides. _Shit, this place gives you full course meals?_ "It's called Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner," Mark explained, smiling around a piece of bacon, "Best franchise here, they're planning to expand by making restaurants soon, fucking awesome if you ask me."

Jack tried a wide variety of different things, including the tacos Ken almost shoved in his face, but his favorite turned out to be the same as his soulmate's. They had their fill of grease, childish whims and laughter after another hour, just walking the length of a few blocks away from the cruiser, basking in the warmth distinct to LA. The sun would be setting in a few hours if Jack's watch read correctly and he was appreciative of being invited along to meet Ken, someone who legitimately backed him up to be with Mark when Mark wasn't in hearing range. It was good to know there was someone on his side and could understand his position, getting married to his own soulmate no less.

The feeling of acceptance was starting to really settle in him, Mark expressed himself a lot more freely being in a third party. There was no room for awkwardness, no prolonged silences to mull over. It was just generally good times and getting to know how Mark acted when he didn't have any reason to feel tied down.

But all good things have to come to an end, sooner or later.

Ken excused himself for a call in the next minute. It was the Chief, or Matthias as Mark called him.

Before he knew it Jack saw Ken waving Mark over to where he was standing, far away enough Jack wouldn't be able to hear them unless they were almost yelling. “Mark, I need you to- can you come over here real quick?” His voice was slightly uneven, which Mark must have caught onto as well because Jack could see it set the cop side of him off.

“What’s going on, ken?” Mark trudged over there and Ken offered Jack a heedful glance. With no words they turned on the corner of the building that Jack was in front of, but his feet begged him to follow and he didn't know why but he obeyed the pull.

 _Fuck, this is wrong._ They were likely discussing some sort of important police work and Jack was an idiot trying to listen in on them. He hid low behind a large enough post-office drop-box to cover his frame, regret already coursing through his system.

Ken was pacing when Jack's eyes closed in on them just yards away. “He’s back," Ken's voice was grave, "Mark, _goddammit he’s back_.”

“Who’s ba- wait you don't, you can't mean… he... _he’s_ back?” As if on instinct, Mark whipped his head behind him. Jack was barely able to duck as mocha eyes swept the area around them.

Jack wracked his brain for what the two could be talking of, or _who_ they could be talking of, but nothing came to mind that Mark had ever told him. They never really discussed his job in much depth before. Did this have something to do with a case? Peering back it was unmistakable, Mark was practically panic-stricken, features riddled with as much nerves as when they first locked eyes.

“Yes,” Ken whispered, opting to be a bit quieter. It was a wonder Jack could still hear them. “The department just got a tip, there was an eyewitness report he was last seen on the corner of Woods Avenue, westbound downtown, east LA.”

Mark cursed under his breath. “Are you sure? Maybe... maybe it's someone who just looks like him."

“I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t 100% sure, partner. I just got sent the picture, look.” Ken gave his cellphone to Mark, the redhead's tan face no longer so tan but a sickly pale, turning white as a sheet.

“Do you think he's alone?"

"I don't know, it's possible."

Mark bit his lip. "Do we know why he’s here at least?”

The southerner shook his head profusely. “Not yet, we don’t know much of anything, actually. But what we do know is-”

A couple motorcycles, loud enough to deafen the gods, rolled by the corner, making it impossible to hear anything Ken said in the next thirty seconds and Jack sucked at reading lips. By the time they were gone he was finished.

“Christ, alright, let’s keep this on the down low for now, we don’t need to start a widespread panic,” Mark imposed and wiped away a bead of sweat, pushing his red locks back with a shaky sigh.

Jack couldn't understand what put him under such a heavy amount of stress in so little time but Jack's heart ached for him. He had to control himself from walking over there and wrapping him in what would probably be a most unwelcomed hug. Also, since it would require him to confess to eavesdropping on their private conversation, and Jack wasn't so sure if their newly made unconventional friendship was strong enough to take that kind of blow.

It was a couple more minutes before Mark and Ken seemed to be heading back and Jack bolted straight up and away before they caught sight of him fleeing. He slumped against the building with his hands in his pockets, hoping he looked casual when they rounded the corner with masked expressions. Even if Jack hadn't eavesdropped, it was obvious just how much the atmosphere thickened and the sunny mood lowered.

"Jack," Mark began and paused as if unsure what else to say. 

But Jack was way ahead of him, already imagining what Mark was about to say next. "I can walk to the hotel if ya guys need to use the cruiser for anythi-"

"What? I just wanted to tell you Ken was talking to me about this place that he _insisted_ you needed to see before leaving LA," Mark gave a small smile, skin still pale but slowly recoloring, "Ken has to get going but my hands are kinda tied, are you up for it?" His soulmate still looked so uneasy even out of cop mode.

Jack was confused, because that's of course not what they talked about at all, but was he really going to say no to spending more time with the redhead? "Er, sure, but where are we going?"

Ken stayed silent on the sidelines, eyes on the cement, like he was lost in thought. Mark tried to keep the smile, but Jack could tell it was forced.

"I guess... you'll just have to wait and see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Shout-out to keroseneArtist for the suit shop name! Absolutely adorable. :3  
> Shout-out to At_the_moment for the food truck name! Told ya I wouldn't forget. ;)
> 
> How'd you think this chapter went? I can write stuff akin to fluff ya know, just don't expect it all the time!
> 
> Now before y'all go off tryin' to guess who 'he' is, keep in mind this is a **borderline** _'realistic'_ story, ya know besides the ominous fortunes, soulmate technology, and overall basic premise of this story. Besides, I sincerely doubt any of y'all will guess right, if you did that'd be pretty cool but still, no shame in guessing if you want. It amuses me to see people fail. :p
> 
> Thank you to all the comments from last chapter! I was so scared how it would turn out but the positive feedback was amazing! Hope this was good as well, see you next chapter. <3


	13. Death Comes Unexpectedly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jack sank to the ground. Crimson soaked the dingy, backstreet cement._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...I'm late, aren't I?  
> Um, okay, excuses times, I guess, for anyone who's interested—Writer's block, lack of motivation, depression, personal issues, senior year of HS, etc. Now, I'm not saying any of this for pity or bullshit, I just wanna be real with you guys. There are many reasons why I haven't been updating and, while I normally really hate giving excuses, life can be pretty shit sometimes and just get out of hand. But I'm glad to say things have thankfully gotten a lot better while I've been gone and I'm honestly so happy to be back writing this after all the months I've been gone. I'm seriously really sorry, though, for all the people who have been left waiting for an update. I don't expect all the readers I had to come back but for whoever wants to keep reading, thank you. It means a lot. I hope I don't disappoint this time. Enjoy. :)

The drive was quiet, dropping Ken off to his own car, as if everyone was too afraid to speak but didn't know why.

It left the cruiser with a more than heavy silence to wherever Mark seemed to be going next. They were off into the direction of downtown LA, however, as Jack soon caught onto, watching increasingly taller buildings sweep past the window in a haze of color.

And, lo and behold, the man with the badge was the one still acting half out of his mind in poorly disguised fear for reasons Jack could only pin to his last conversation with his partner. He didn't know if he should say anything. Mark gave the impression he wasn't in the right state of mind to talk either way. He was as stiff as a board beside him just radiating anxiety. Jack never felt more like he was sitting next to a complete stranger; which was unsettling enough on its own. Not even upon meeting had things ever felt this odd and out of place. Tense, yes, but not this strange, almost looming atmosphere—he could only recall feeling an inkling of that at the bookstore, under the emerald observation of luminescent cat-like eyes.

But Jack didn't want to think about that any more than he needed as he was still playing over what he heard while eavesdropping. The words didn't mean all that much to him, having missed an important part of the conversation gave him no real context to connect it all to. Still, whoever this criminal was had to be of some importance if they could make the ever brooding, and confusing, adonis afraid.

Jack was about to open his mouth to say something, anything, really, when they abruptly veered off the road, pulling up to the curb of a gas station in record time. Wordlessly, the redhead grabbed a bag full of what appeared to be spare clothes from the trunk of the cruiser. Rushing in and then out again of the gas station he came back out in his civies: an open grey flannel and white tank top paired with low riding jeans. His uniform was tucked hastily away in the bag, thrown in the back seat and all but forgotten, before they were off again with little forewarning.

All of this was done with no explanation, which, _okay,_ whatever, he's seen stranger behavior before, no biggie. Still, it was enough for Jack to decide to play his hand at remaining mute for the time being.

They drove on for a good ten more minutes as the sky darkened and night was rapidly approaching until they neared a... _wait._

"The fook are we doin' at a club?" Jack finally broke the silence, frowning. "You didn't exactly strike me as the party type."

Parked 'discreetly' behind a bush, they got out roughly in front of what had to be a pretty exclusive club from the looks of it. It wasn't the most obvious depiction of a club, perhaps, but the name of the place, Sweet Soulstice, was in bright pink LED lights on the main brick wall of the building. And lined up near the entrance was also a large group of people (in clothing that should've _probably_ been illegal) as two buff men in black tees stood intimidatingly, with arms crossed beside them, allowing only a few in at a time—all making it a bit of a dead give away.

"You'd be right," Mark conceded, not meeting his eyes as he shifted pensively on his heels, still mere feet from the vehicle, as if undeciding whether to get back in or walk the expanse of the parking lot to go inside. But in the end he just stood still, a far-off look in fear altered brown eyes. "Yeahh...the party scene has never really been much of my thing. Ken just, I mean— _he_ figured it would be a...a good idea for you to see what LA life was like...at night." His eyes dropped then. "Eh, ya know, to get the full experience...?" He tried to cover his overcoming grimace with a smile which was, Jack thought, in all honesty a pretty poor attempt.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that for a second, Mark. Why are we really here?" The American winced before mumbling something under his breath that Jack didn't catch. "What was that?"

"Fine, fine...you got me," he sighed heavily. "Ken didn't think we should tell you but... _fuck it._ We're here because I'm trying to catch a...well, a criminal."

Jack kept his face carefully blank. "Go on."

"He's a," Mark ran a hand over his face as another built up sigh escaped him, " _petty thief_ , I suppose you could call him, that I've been after for a couple of years—nothing _too_ serious, it's just that I never expected him to come back, even with his sou... _But_ then Ken got word from the department that, well, he _did_ come back, recently, and that there's a possibility he'll be here. Tonight. Yet, _fuck_ is it terrible timing a-and Ken needs to help Mary with some wedding planning and it's just been such a long time coming is what I'm trying to say... But I can't just let _him_ get away and, well—I need to do this. I have to. I intend on finally nailing this guy, once and for all."

Mark had gotten closer while talking, practically leaning in as to whisper. Close enough that the heat of his words could be felt against the shell of Jack's ear. Which was a bit too close for the Irishman—maybe not close enough. Regardless, the words left him confused, and not just because apparently Mark was terrified of a petty thief. He knit his brows together. "Why am _I_ here then?"

"I..." For a moment Mark looked like he was trying to figure out that exact same question. "I guess I just...this is gonna sound stupid coming from me as a cop, but I'm usually with Ken for this...kind of thing...So this may sound like a half-assed excuse for being a big blubbering baby on the job, but it throws me a...a bit off my game without someone else here with me, and I..." he stammered, "...I-I trust you."

 _"Ya do?"_ Jack tried not to let the disbelief in his voice show or his spirits soar too high. Yet it was a failed effort.

But Mark...oddly just smiled at him tentatively, in a way hard to picture. It was a smile filtered with nerves. A smile very unsure of itself and confused but still gorgeous—still _beautiful_ —and somehow untainted by true fear. It was also a smile too honest and unguarded to remain for long, however. Gone in an instant like it was never there, but Jack wasn't soon to forget. And though Jack had only seen that expression on the half Korean's face a handful of times—usually without his own express knowledge—it was getting to be one of his favorites.

There wasn't much to say after that, silence was a welcome friend between them most of the time when it wasn't heavy or awkward, but Mark was a man on a mission. Mark briefly explained how this was to go down in order for this not to be a sure fail, all fear flown out the window when it counted. Jack would walk in 20 minutes after Mark (he apparently knew the main bouncers from an old case who would let him in) and Mark would do a survey of the crowd while Jack was to sit down at the bar, just looking _undisputedly_ pretty... Jack may have mentally added on the last part.

He watched Mark waltz inside in the next few minutes and past the bouncers as casual as you'd expect an undercover cop of two years to walk into a club. Which, Jack was hopeful to the thief, was more convincing than his lying.

When the 20 minutes were up by indication of his phone, Jack had steadily become more nervous and agitated to enter the club alone. It was one thing to go to a club with his 'somewhat friend', 'somewhat destined love of his life', and a whole 'nother thing to go on his own. It wasn't even the fact of there being a criminal in the building...no, Jack's introverted and over-analytical mind was more suspended by the lack of social skills and outgoing courage he seemed to possess.

Being with Mark was actually getting to be pretty easy. He was his soulmate, what did he expect? But this was a new country he'd just visited. Before Mark came along he truthfully kept the majority of his trip within the realms of his comfort zone when going out. He saw a lot but never had to step out of that metaphorical bubble that encased him mostly in fear and ragged self-esteem. It didn't help, either, that he was more energized being on his own, being somewhat timid in public was just a nasty side effect of often being alone that he found more annoying than endearing.

It took a whole lot of effort and a major slap of reality to take that first bloody step forward and so on into the line of flashy dresses and designer board shorts. Moving up in the line brought his anxieties to a hilt if he would even get in. Mark hadn't exactly told him what to say, or if to say anything. But upon seeing him, the two muscle men only eyed his green hair, nodded, and let him pass. _Right,_ of course, _that_ would be the deciding factor.

The place was larger than expected, buzzing with life and bounding energy. Clubs like this thrived off of activity and movement, as far as he knew, electricity flowing in wavelengths through rapidly sliding feet, constant blasting music, and over-stylized flashing disco lights. It was very retro and very custom made to fit the stereotypical type of club shown in films...and advertised all over google images. Jack purposefully steered clear of the lit up checkered floor as Mark transcribed, gravitating to the edge of the room to situate himself as inconspicuously as possible at the black countered bar where a few other fashionably decked out men and women sat, none much sober.

He thought about ordering a drink, it'd been a while since his last intake of anything mind-numbing and with his nerves frayed the idea seemed well enough—that is, if he wasn't already starting to worry about Mark. But why worry about a well-trained man of the law clad in crowd blending clothes and razor-sharp focused eyes? Because he was his god damn soulmate is _why,_ it should be stressed tenfold that kind of pressure! And Jack was a world-class worrier...

Pushing his worries to a side for a moment, he did his own inspecting of the environment he was in. Most people were inebriated—how _astonishing_ —giggles mixed in with the music and drinks mixed in with the giggles of people sucking other people's faces. Why anyone thought the club was a fun place to be was beyond him. He felt more inclined to be tipsy than fully aware with everyone around him drunk, however.

Mark offered him his debit card before separating but Jack declined and was now glad he did. Even if he ended up ordering anything it just felt better to spend his own money. Not so much for the sake of independence but because it was no secret he made more than the older male. And in a place like this prices for any amount of liquor were bound to be high. He was only relieved to see no bartenders at the moment, probably catering to the more obvious richer mess of individuals, giving him free range to worry some more and scan the floor for a flicker of red.

As his eyes were searching a man's voice interrupted his concentration, sitting at the stool beside him, “Why hello, what’s a cute guy like you doing in a straight club like this?”

Jack snorted on instinct, because _really_ , not even bothering a spare glance to the owner of the voice. “Is that really yer pick-up line, dude? Not interested.” Jack may be a bit introverted... okay, a _lot_ introverted, but he’s no stranger to flirts. Pubs in Ireland, though most were tame where he's from, were also home to some of the worst pick-up lines known to man and some of the sleaziest men.

“Aww, baby, at least let me buy you a drink, _it wouldn’t be a crime_.” The man’s voice was venomous, each word slick with charm. And in a second less than average there was a warm hand on Jack’s leg, making his skin crawl at the unwanted contact. He began turning to tell the man off when he felt something steely and hard against his back, stilling him instantly. And never did he more wish he just didn't take that first bloody step inside this place. _That's a gun, that's a gun, that's a motherfucking gun, oh fuck—_

His heart sped up and his voice was made small when he really just... wanted to...just... “Who... a-are you? What the hell do ya want-t?”

_Now's not the time to fucking stutter, get it together Jack._

“Shhhh, relax. No need to freak out, gorgeous,” the words were like toxic honey in his ears, but the man was still eerily calm for someone handling a gun in a crowded place. The hand on his leg ran over his kneecap, bringing up sickening goosebumps. “Everything is going to be just fine—if you cooperate, _of course._ Who I am you will know soon enough, but what I want right now is just a _teensy_ favor...for you to go outside with me.”

His throat felt like it was constricting in on itself, but he couldn’t hold back his snide comment, brought up from nerves, already trickling out, “Y-ya know, I’m not really _that_ kind of guy—”

 **"Move."** So Jack followed, never so struck with genuine fear in all his life. His eyes skittered around the dance floor with the gun still firmly against his backside, practically _digging_ into his spine, and he was steadily losing focus on his surroundings. It didn't help that Mark was nowhere in sight.

“So, what’s your name short, pale, and handsome?”

Jack glowered. “None of y-yer fookin’ business.”

He could sense the man’s eye roll. “I’m pointing a gun at you, sweetheart, I’ll have you find just about _anything_ is my business with this kind of power.”

Well, he couldn't argue with that.

The green haired male sighed, “It’s Jack," but his real name would need a lot more motivation to give up. Because being held at gunpoint _obviously_ wasn't enough.

The man hummed. “Jack…? Nah, I don’t see it. Okay, now out this way, if you please!”

They neared the back exit and Jack still hadn’t gotten a chance to look at the man for even a fraction of a second. He could only imagine the consequences if he did, still not knowing what this man was capable of. (...Well, he could _guess_ murder might be a capability...) His thoughts floated to Mark's petty thief but—last time he checked—petty thieves didn't do shit like _this_.

The air was brisk outside in the alleyway, even for it being spring still, as Jack was shoved roughly out the door and stumbled on the steps from more than being rushed. He was shaking and could see his own breath leaving his lips in puffs of visible air. He had half a mind to imagine he might have to actually see his last. He grimaced at the thought. He needed to figure out a way to escape this man before his blood ended up painting the dingy, backstreet cement.

“Look man, I ‘aven’t even s-seen yer face, okay? I have a wallet, n-no U.S. currency, but I have a card-d. Yeh can take it, just let me go r-right now, and you’ll never get-t caught." But his attempt to reason fell upon deaf ears as the man kept strangely silent. Jack turned his face only merely, no longer feeling his eyes on him. He saw the obscured silhouette of the man, strips of moonlight outlining a slim profile and caught on the strands of a large mass of what looked to be curls...

“Long time no see Mr. Avidan, it appears we have some catching up to do,” Mark’s voice resonated from the shadows that the man appeared to be grinning fiercely at now. “But why with a hostage? Scared you can’t take me on your own?”

Mark’s voice was dark and provoking, a deeper vibrato than Jack had ever heard from him. His words seemed to hide a mild underlying hint of rage, yet his tone was well controlled as ever. Jack could find no semblance of the prior fear he held, it was as if it was the very fuel to the dark-pitch left in place.

He tried to make out the shape of him, but he was cloaked in darkness and the gun pressed to the Irishman's back was quickly moving up, soon aiming to the side of his skull. Jack could picture the man's grin from where he now stood directly behind him, smooth voice tight when he spoke; “The name’s Danny Sexbang to you, _darling_ , and I don't like to repeat myself every time we meet. Don’t want me putting a gun to your soulmate’s head, do you? Hmm, how peculiar...you didn't seem to mind doing it to _mine_.”

“We’re not soulmates," Mark claimed dismissively, like Jack wasn't of any real importance above a stranger in the average hostage situation. "I don’t even know that man."

_...Well, this better damn be part of some genius plan._

Coming out of the shadows ( _finally_ ), gun drawn and trained just above Jack's head, Mark was unwavering in his approach, glaring openly at the man while the moon illuminated the anger etched out on his face in casting shadows.

A deeply disturbing chuckle came from the man, Danny, behind the pistol. “Aww, don’t try to fool me, Mark. You aren't half as clever as that...I know 'true love' when I see it...”

Mark’s eyes turned to slits and if looks could kill…well, you get the picture. “This has nothing to do with him. Still pissed that I took your sweetheart to prison, are you? Maybe you should be more careful about who you associate with your business.”

“Says the man bringing his soulmate to a club to catch a criminal.” Jack imagined Danny smirked before scowling. “And I’m not discussing Arin with you just now. But, perhaps you'd like to see a familiar face, hmm?”

Another figure appeared out of the shadows in the next second concealed in all black, wearing some ninja getup that perplexed Jack to no ends. He came up behind Mark just as he was turning at the sound, batting the gun out of Mark's hand and wrapping his arms around him in a firm restraint. Apparently, he was tougher than he looked.

“How the tables have turned, and so suddenly,” Danny laughed callously, and Jack felt the man stroke the top of his head with a heavy hand. “Now if you don’t do exactly as I say, this _adorable_ little man will die.”

Jack wanted to protest the mocking sentiments, and laugh for _hours_ at just how much this man was acting like the classic embodiment of the mustache-twirling villain trope—cheesy comebacks and all. It was all very comical, really, though under different circumstances of course, because before he could mutter a word the gun pressed further against his head and for some reason he just _knew_ he heard the safety click off. Mark struggled, too, at the sound, his eyes pinned to both Jack and the assailant now, but Mark quickly tensed when the 'ninja' pulled out something glimmering, sharp, pointed— _no, God, no_ —a pocketknife.

Jack’s heart rate skyrocketed then, sweat rolling down like anxious tears from his hairline when the knife was held against his soulmate's neck.

“You let go of him you piece of shit, he has nothing to do with your bullshit,” Mark growled, seemingly unfazed by the blade grazing his throat, thrashing as best he could in the vice-like grip without nicking himself. “You let him go and we’ll talk.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” the man tsked. “ _I_ am the one in control here, Mark. You do as I say and everyone walks free and unharmed, _including me_.”

“Not on my life,” Mark snarled darkly.

Danny only laughed again. “You’re right, not on _your_ life,” Jack could feel the cold metal press even closer into his hair, “on _his_.”

From the look on the redhead’s face to the fear bubbling underneath the surface, the Irishman felt a sudden spike of confidence. “Alright you pretentious _arsehole,_ get the fook off me, him, and let us go before I—” Yet a hand was quickly slapped on his face, effectively cutting him off. “God, how _exhausting_ you are, I can't fathom how he can stand you. Now, Mark, whaddya say? Play by my rules or shall things get a little _messy_?”

Opting for silence for a second was Mark's first mistake.

The switchblade pressed against the tan flesh of his neck when he didn't immediately respond. Jack held a shaky breath as it was pulled back an inch enough to reveal a harsh red mark. It was a threat, the dangerous glint in the masked man's shadowed eyes was proof that one wrong move would bring that blade to slitting his throat.

These guys weren't just petty thieves, if they were that at all...

"So what will it be now Mark? This is entirely your choice, and we all know how much choice matters to _you_. I don't know who ratted me out that I'd be here tonight, but I _hate_ unwanted visitors lurking where they shouldn't. And on my day off too, how _rude_.

"You think you're so superior because you're a real 'brave officer of the law', don'tcha Mark? But I know you're still just that scared little boy I remember shaking next to his wounded partner who had no control over _anything._ You've always been way over your head, sweetheart. You've gotten older but you haven't gotten smarter, nor better, and what _luck_ it is that you were foolish enough to think you could catch me this time.

"It's a pity, really, that I can't be paired against someone at least _mildly_ competent enough to pose a real threat. I could kill your soulmate in a quarter of a second...you should be thankful I'm offering you a choice instead. All I need is your cooperation—I go on to do what I came back to this blasted city for, you tell the cops I wasn't here, you give up on any futile investigation that I know you will fail at, and you can All. Just. Leave. How does that sound?"

_It couldn't really be that easy, right? Was I mishearing something or did this king of pricks_ actually _think Mark was not going to tell the cops, even after released? And just...what...what exactly happened to Mark to make him so scared before?_

"Enough with the bullshit and games, _Sexbang._ What's the catch?" Mark demanded after a moment's deliberation while Jack sank deeper into his thoughts. "There's always a catch with you, so what is it?"

Jack would bet a million bucks that put the biggest smile on the criminal's face. "You know me too well, Mark, I have to hand it to you. It's the only thing you're good at, really. I merely need a favor since any chance of your cooperation once I let you go is basically worthless... So here's the short bit of it: I want Arin back. Healthy, and just the way I last saw him before you laid your _vile_ hands on him to drag him away to a place he _never deserved to be in._ That's the only reason I'm here. You didn't actually think I'd leave him after you took him away, did you? All you have to do is simply spring him out of prison unscathed and we'll have no more quarrels to speak of."

Mark scoffed. "You're _insane._ There is no way in _hell_ I'd help get Hanson out of jail for you. I couldn't even if I tried, I'm just a cop, remember? I have no power over that. Why are you relying on me instead of yourself if you seem to think I'm so incompetent?"

"Incompetent you may be but I have my reasons." Jack felt the gun against his head shift abruptly, altering itself at a sharp angle as the man behind him took a different stance, as if preparing for something. "And you _can_ do it, despite your lack of sanction and everything else. I know you'd do just about anything to save an innocent life, whether you believe you're meant to be with them or not. Which is why dear ol' Jackie-boy here will be a _wonderful_ incentive for you to get the job done."

Jack saw it in that exact moment, like a switch being flipped: the redhead's glare grew a dangerous glint like the sharp edge of a blade being sharpened and his voice became, all at once, deadly flat like the change of key on a piano. "This is your first and final warning, Avidan...you even so much as _think_ , let alone _try_ , to actually kill him and I swear to God you will never live to see your pathetic lover again."

It seemed two could play at that game, however, as Danny was quick to retort. "Understand this, _Fischbach,_ and mark my words," he punctuated each word deathly slow, the cold hush of them brushing against green hair like the hushed breath of death itself. "If _I_ can’t have _my_ soulmate, then, I assure you, neither can _you_ have _yours.”_

Their threats hung thick in the air for a moment, but Mark didn't dignify _his_ with a response. Instead, his eyes remained intently focused on him as they stared each other down; Mark, still with a knife against his throat, and Danny, still outside of Jack's line of sight. He knew they were all at a momentary standstill, yet it seemed like it wasn't just Dan waiting for something, but Mark as well. The Irishman didn't know what to think of it as time passed by as if in slow motion and with bated breath. And it was like that— _quiet,_ —before the silence that permeated the thick air met a violent death as the wailing of sirens soon erupted from the street beside the alleyway where they were.

Jack closed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh of relief. _Thank fucking christ..._

Mark smirked. "Looks like the game's up, Avidan. _You lose._ "

And boy did that nearly make Jack leap for joy (if he wasn't still pressed against a trigger-happy psychopath, of course) seeing as it all was finally over. Even the man in black was peering anxiously in the direction of the sirens and the bastard behind him was finally quiet.

That is...until he wasn't.

Jack turned ever slightly—what little he could—as Danny swiftly reared his head back in his peripheral vision. And not even the sirens could drown him out as he just laughed and laughed and _laughed._

His laughter was an awful hissing sound that reminded Jack a lot of a snake and it wasn't even surprising, the resemblance.

"Oh, but darling, I'm afraid you don't get it. Can't you see? You have it all wrong..." The honey-tongued viper grinned. "This is me just warming up. _The game has only just begun."_

And then suddenly a shot rang out.

 

And a scream left Jack’s throat.

 

Danny loosened his hold, Jack sank to the ground.

 

Crimson soaked the dingy, backstreet cement.

 

Blood mixed with the dirt and grime...there was the most ear-splitting silence.

 

And for a moment, everything was still.

 

Some say death comes unexpectedly.

 

And to be honest...

 

...They couldn't be more right.

 

_Just not **today.**_

 

Danny chuckled brokenly, a high burst of biting pained noise. _"Shit..."_

Jack clambered away from the body of his almost-killer as Danny too fell to the ground. There was a bullet lodged in the criminal's shoulder and from there was a steadily forming pool of blood. His body was still, however, and appeared to be unconscious. Jack next glanced behind Mark's back to see the man clad out in black knocked out as well. Jack didn't think to ask how he so quickly got out of the other criminal's hold, in fact, he was rendered a bit speechless just trying to grasp, well...everything. He was still on the ground when Mark holstered his used gun before helping Jack to his feet when he got near enough, just to then pull him into a tight embrace as apparent tremors shook both their bodies.

“Fuck, are you okay Jack?? I’m so sorry for getting you involved in this…absolute shit of a mission. Christ, what the hell was I _thinking_ , letting you come here?” Mark’s words barely picked up over the cry of sirens closing in on them. His arms were steadily wrapping tighter around Jack’s trembling body—keeping him from falling, Jack guessed. The fear had run its course but now his limbs felt oddly weak and he was having a hard time comprehending what the hell just happened. He couldn’t stop shaking from the aftershock, even still.

“Yeah, Mark, I’m-I’m fine." His mind was slowly failing to process just how close Mark was hugging him, but his almond eyes were back to their normal coffee color and, despite the fear being back in them fused with concern, they dazzled almost. They literally just seemed to _shine_ and maybe Jack was light-headed and a bit out of it but he felt a calmness wash over him in that moment past the nerves, and everything was...okay again. Yeah. Everything was fine. He didn't know why, really, but it was alright. It was all just quite alright, which was better than how it just was so he didn't question it. For now, at least.

When Mark at last looked over his shoulder, however, his eyes lost some of their sparkle to gain a bit of their previous fury-fueled fire (say that three times fast). Jack turned, then, in his arms to see what he was staring at and... _it was nothing._ There was the pool of blood but no criminal. He looked behind Mark's back again. And, just as he suspected, his accomplice was nowhere to be seen either...

_Well ain't that just fucking great?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck, it feels good to be back at this story.
> 
> Sorry for not including Mark's POV as usual! I promise that next chapter it'll be in the majority of his perspective and you'll be able to know what he thought of all of this and just how he was able to get out of Brian's hold in order to shoot Danny before Danny could shoot Jack. I'll gladly answer any questions you have, but don't expect any spoilers! xxx
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading if you've gotten this far!! And I still absolutely love feedback and interacting with y'all so please leave a comment of literally anything if you can. Kudos are also appreciated if you're new. Have a wonderful day (or night)! :D


	14. Three Strikes and You’re Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He_ let _me..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh _sweet jesus fuck,_ it's been a few months, hasn't it? Again, my bad, but thank you all for coming back to this and still wanting to read my shit of story after so long anyway. I'm sure I've said it before—cause I'm a god damn sap—but it seriously means so much to me to know that people still enjoy this, so just, y'know, thanks. :)
> 
> And here we go with Mark's POV of the last chapter! I have much more planned from here, so, if something seems intentionally done, some sort of foreshadowing, it probably is just that.
> 
> ~~(P.S. first person to find the re-worded Supernatural reference or the Elvis-infused-Carrie Underwood reference gets a cookie.)~~
> 
>  
> 
> **This is a NEW chapter as of 2/19/18**

The drive was quiet, dropping Ken off to his own car, which was _just_ great, really...

All that Mark could allow himself to focus on was driving and yet _still_ the silence persisted in a way that just dragged on tirelessly and couldn't be helped. He made his way downtown quickly, nearly speeding there, but the nerves only followed and built in intensity the closer they got to their destination.

He gripped the steering wheel tight, and nearly raised it from its position. There was a tension in his shoulders building up like a dam about to break and it just wouldn't _give_ for jack-shit. He felt nerve-ending chills, icicles spiking to a fever pitch in his veins through and through. They seemed to paralyze his very heart, rendering any form of rehearsed meditation useless. He could only imagine the picture he made: 'LA cop gone mute and petrified over one criminal.' How _pathetic._

Momentarily, through the fog of fear and unwavering unease, he was wary how his behavior might be coming off to the green haired male beside him, but he couldn't bear to look. Instead, he remained upright in his seat. Motionless, just staring forward. Trying not to let the onslaught of thoughts hit him in the way they wanted to, not wishing to get caught up in the whirlpool that his mind was rapidly becoming. He had to keep a cool head, though he knew he was far from calm. It was the only way to keep from full-blown panicking, however, which he somehow managed not to be at just yet.

Watching buildings sweep past his peripheral vision, it all was just a stunted, haphazard blur. That was, until his eyes caught sight of something blue— _a gas station_ —and it suddenly became apparent to him what he was wearing. Breaking off from traffic, he grabbed his bag from the trunk and ran inside on autopilot. Hurriedly, he changed out of his uniform in one of the bathroom stalls, holstering up his gun to his ankle and throwing on a pair of jeans and a flannel in an practiced fashion. With his badge securely concealed he was done in under two minutes, back out the door and driving away, all without sparing a glance or word to his not-so abnormally quiet passenger.

Really, it wasn't the biggest surprise when Jack didn't say anything and seemingly chose to remain silent the whole ride to the club. His supposed soulmate had no idea where they were actually going, and yet he didn't ask a single question. Whether that was his doing or just the shorter man's nature, Mark realized he didn't expect anything much different. He was actually starting to pick up on many of his mannerisms after just the three days of knowing him. He was more than a tad introverted, that much he now knew. And while it brought along its own anxieties to know Mark was getting used to him and how he was, it was still a welcomed reprieve from more troubling, previous thoughts.

They drove on for what felt like an eternity as evening came and the sun set, yet it couldn't have been anymore than ten more minutes before they reached LA's most popular club and the last place in the world he wanted to be: _Sweet Soulstice._

Mark sighed to himself morosely. _Why did it always have to be_ here _of all places?_

"The fook are we doin' at a club?" Jack was the first to break the silence. "You didn't exactly strike me as the party type."

Mark parked as well as he could manage behind a bush before they got out and Jack's eyes traveled immediately to the pink glow of the building. Stepping cautiously to the side, breath held, the cop made a quick survey of the parking lot around them, looking for anything that could warrant suspicion and yet, at the same time, not knowing exactly what would or what should.

"You'd be right," Mark confessed absently, but didn't turn to look him in the eye. He was sure Jack would be able to see the fear in them—well, if the way he was acting didn't already give that entirely away. In truth, all he really wanted to do was leave and he was fighting with his legs to not turn back to the door. _C'mon, Mark, who are you kidding? Just get back in your car, drive away, and let someone else handle this..._

He frowned, squinting against the growing darkness as his mind tried to reason with his actions. Even with the lampposts that lined the lot, the primarily starless sky still pervaded his field of vision, obscuring his surroundings to the point where nothing felt entirely safe. _Turn around, Mark. Turn around and go home, it's that easy._

"Yeahh...the party scene has never really been much of my thing. Ken just, I mean— _he_ figured it would be a...a good idea for you to see what LA life was like...at night." His eyes fell to the concrete. _It would be so easy..._ "Eh, ya know, to get the full experience...?" _So easy...and Ken wouldn't blame you._

He didn't even know what he was saying at this point, but he was sure whatever reasoning he was giving to his brought-along passenger didn't make much sense. He forced himself to look in Jack's general direction, tried in vain to smile...but the look on the Irishman's face gave him the impression he wasn't the least convinced.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that for a second, Mark. Why are we really here?" Mark winced, saying in a few words everything he really wanted to say, everything he didn't know how to fully say, under his breath. "What was that?"

 _Time to come clean, I guess._ "Fine, fine...you got me. Ken didn't think we should tell you but... _fuck it._ We're here because I'm trying to catch a...well, a criminal."

Jack's face was expressionless. "Go on." Though, his eyes, on the other hand, were full of something he didn't want to read into.

"He's a," _what the fuck do I call him?_ " _petty thief_ , I suppose you could call him, that I've been after for a couple of years—nothing _too_ serious, it's just that I never expected him to come back, even with his sou... _But_ then Ken got word from the department that, well, he _did_ come back, recently, and that there's a possibility he'll be here. Tonight. Yet, _fuck_ is it terrible timing a-and Ken needs to help Mary with some wedding planning and it's just been such a long time coming is what I'm trying to say... But I can't just let _him_ get away and, well—I need to do this. I have to. I intend on finally nailing this guy, once and for all."

Mark hadn't exactly meant to lean in as much as he did, as talking turned to frantic whispers fast, it just sort of... _happened._ But, they had become close nonetheless; pale reddened ear to agape mouth level of close, which was an admittedly weird sentence on it's own. Close enough that he could see the frayed ridges of his fringe and the precise spot where vibrant green faded into a rich, grey-toned brown. Jack's face was turned to the side in a soft profile, but the blush high on his cheeks was unmistakable. Mark knew his proximity was the cause and yet, as it were, he couldn't figure right in that second why he didn't immediately pull away.

The Irishman wore a dazed look of muddled confusion. "Why am _I_ here then?"

"I..." _...Good fucking question..._ "I guess I just...this is gonna sound stupid coming from me as a cop, but I'm usually with Ken for this...kind of thing...So this may sound like a half-assed excuse for being a big blubbering baby on the job, but it throws me a...a bit off my game without someone else here with me, and I..." _Now here's the_ real _moment of truth..._ "...I-I trust you."

 _"Ya do?"_ Jack’s voice was colored in disbelief, yet the way his face lifted up instantly, and eyes lit up like starlight, made the German-Korean smile despite himself.

He didn't know what it was about him that made him smile just then, perhaps it was his eyes that weren't quite sky blue or sapphire, but rather a mixture of their endless expansion and gleam. It was stupid how stupidly beautiful they were, honestly. Especially when the light hit them like it did just then, from the street lamp post above them. But, it was also a bit...alarming, in a mild way. He wasn't afraid to say he found men attractive, but yet acknowledging that _Jack_ was attractive, that any part of him was—it seemed to send off silent warning signals, flashing alarms in the back of his mind, and he knew it had to have been more than his eyes that set off such express distress.

He didn't get it. Not _any_ of it. He didn’t know how to explain what it did to him either, to _know_ this. To admit this to himself, something he wasn't even fully sure of out of all the clouded confusion and with a lack of true understanding. He didn’t know how to say that his heart flipped and stomach dropped at the same time, and how they both meant two entirely different things. He just didn’t know what it meant. There was seemingly no name for it. It made no sense, bearing no logic or reasoning to be found behind it. His smile fell away.

Maybe he shouldn't have said he trusted him...he knew it just created more problems...more regret. So, you may ask, why didn't he regret it?

Mark wanted to sigh but held it back. They fell into a silence that actually wasn't all that bad as it had been before. At some point, he hadn't realized it, but the fear had dissipated. What he was left with was a clearer head, one much more suited to sit upon an officer's shoulders. He set his plan in motion.

As he briefed Jack on how this night was to go down, he finally allowed himself to trust he might _actually_ have a handle on this. He was a cop, this was his job, and when it came down to performance on duty he had always done remarkably well. There was a certain pride in that too, one that just wanted to fight back any rising fears. So, he focused on that pride and let his doubts take the backseat while a swelling confidence took the wheel. _I know what I'm doing. I've been trained for this. I will not turn back. I can do this...and if I can't, I have to try to anyway._

He repeated this to himself once more as he left Jack to his own devices, knowing he'd be safer not entering together in case someone recognized him. The bouncers did, of course, but they were trusted informants to the LAPD. Before going in Mark told them to expect a man with green hair coming soon and to let him in with no issue.

They knew why Mark was there, why he was ever there, so they only lifted the rope barrier with a nod, no questions asked. Mark walked in with a fluid motion of a relaxed, mock informality that skirted between an indifferent tread and an easygoing stride. He let himself fall into the well-known routine of it, the practiced casual look he had to maintain on more than one occasion. He hadn't gone undercover many times but it was instinct more than anything, and he exuded an uncaring aura quite well, one might add.

The place was just as he remembered from times before and he found he hated it just the same. As he stepped inside he was instantly absorbed into a sea of swaying bodies and all too familiar flickering fluorescent lights. The room was submerged in swaths of red and blue, creating a kind of generic hyper-dense tone of purple that overpowered all other flashes of yellow and green. The club didn't appear to have aged a day since he last saw it, large stereo speakers in the exact same place they had been before, glass tables not an inch from where they had once been.

It almost felt wrong that nothing had changed when everything else had changed for him the last time he was there. He suddenly wanted something, anything at all, to look noticeably different, just so he could stay grounded in the fact that everything truly wasn't like how it had been back then anymore. So, as he perused the club for a pair of brown eyes, he tried to find at least one thing to remind him how different things were now that the past was long over, although not so long forgotten.

It hadn't been even thirty minutes when his eyes finally caught sight of the famed mob of curls of a tall man— _and wearing a trench coat, are you_ fucking _serious_ —that he would, undoubtedly, recognize a mile away. But, in his wondering why he hadn't changed his style since it was such a dead give away, it hadn't been even a _second_ when his eyes next landed on a tuft of green hair paired with pale skin and just _sweet Jesus take the wheel because Confidence has left the vehicle._

It was then his heart jumped in his throat and his lungs became the damned Sahara Desert cause this wasn't supposed to happen and yet _it did_ and now everything, _everything,_ was different in the very worst way possible because Mark, a cop who should have had everything under _control,_ hadn't planned this— _Jack with a fucking gun against his back_ —at _all._ And already they were moving fast through the crowd, disco lights flashing like strikes of blinding violet lightning overhead, and the redhead couldn't lose them in this violent, chromatic storm.

But just as he began to push against the crowd to follow—he stopped. The back of his head burned as if suddenly there were eyes on him.

He jerked his head behind him innately, hoping to catch the eyes, but the direction didn't matter. He felt the burn seated just at the base of his skull from all around.

And he knew, he knew in his gut it was just paranoia setting in, that there couldn't possibly be that many eyes if any, yet he couldn't shake the _feeling_ of it being something more. The feeling of the ever plaguing _'what if?'_

What if **_he_** wasn't the only one here tonight? What if he had men surrounding the place—or _worse_ —among him in the crowd, right now? What if someone was just waiting for Mark to try to follow and attempt to ruin his plans? What if, with one wrong step, his actions would be the deciding factor to whether everyone dies here now or _not? What if, what if, what if..._

He couldn't move. His feet seemed almost glued to the multi-colored floor in that moment and he just _Couldn't. Move._ Neither could he speak. His heart was starting to beat irregularly again, a dreadful pounding in his chest. He hardly mustered up the strength to _even breathe._ His hands felt chilled and clammy as he seemed to break out in a cold sweat.

All he could do was _look,_ and even that wasn't working in his favor. He tried to maintain a discrete observation as he was trained to do, but he couldn't help his eyes that flitted across the multitude of faces he was encircled in. Yet it was as if his sight was blurred for he couldn't distinguish one from another. Facial features of every kind blended together in a hapless, dizzy mess and, again, nothing was making any sense.

In the back of his mind, he knew these were all symptoms of acute anxiety, signs that he was at the brink of having a panic attack. His paranoia, sensory overload, nervous heartbeat, and the onslaught of 'what ifs' overtaking all other thought—it normally never got this bad. Under normal circumstances, he'd be fine. He _could_ handle this. He could handle a situation like this with ease if it were a _normal_ case, in a _normal_ place, with _normal_ bad guys.

Except...nothing about this was normal, now was it?

This was **_Dan-fucking-Avidan:_** one of the most notorious and wanted criminals in the US, and nothing, really, at first glance screamed it. For although he wasn't normal, he _looked_ normal. It wasn't like half of his face was disfigured or as if he appeared in any way out of the ordinary to invoke suspicion. After all, this wasn't some fairy-spun fantasy realm with dastardly bandits made-out crude and telling in form. This wasn't a damn comic book—in real life, monsters looked just like everyone else, however unfortunate that was. Villains wore invisible masks and heroes didn't always win, _that's just how it was._

In fact, Avidan could even be seen as _captivating_ and _genuine_ to someone who didn't know his true nature—which may have been worse of all. On the outside, he was charismatic, all friendly banter and smiles, but, in reality, he was just a _terrific actor_ who always knew how to sell a performance up till the last act.

He wasn't a psychopath, however. Even Mark had to begrudgingly admit that, no matter how much the rest of him wished to say otherwise. _Oh,_ but he was _clever,_ though—there was no doubt about it—he knew how to act as though he _was,_ in fact, crazy. While seemingly reckless and insane in his antics, he was _not_ to be underestimated. At least...never again. Not a second time.

His vision refocused then, as if he had been looking through the lens of a camera and it had taken a moment to readjust itself. He was determined not to let him get away again, and there was a sort of clarity to be found in that determination. Allowing the panic to subside, he knew his feet could move now and yet...he didn't make another move to.

The panic had only lasted a moment, a few seconds, a minute at best, and Avidan and Jack were still clearly in sight even while mixed within the congested mass of dancers on the checkered floor. They were headed toward the back exit—Mark knew well enough it was the _only_ exit back there—and that as soon as they reached it the Irishman would instantly be in more jeopardy outside than in a crowd. But, he still didn't follow them, didn't try to stop them from leaving, even if every fiber of his being was pleading with him to do just that.

He knew Avidan, even with all his sharp smiles and even sharper manners, would have no problem shooting up this place. He wasn't a killer by trade, but his hands were the kind forever stained red that wouldn't flinch to have blood on them again. The burning eyes were gone, but whether the American had imagined it, whether it had all been the backlash of paranoia or not...he couldn't risk the hundreds of innocent lives around him just for one person. No matter who that person was.

Turning his eyes away he retreated out the front entrance, tapped the left bouncer on his shoulder twice with a knowing look, and quickly swung around back to the vacant alleyway behind the club. With the moon partly clouded, the alleyway walls were just far apart enough for him to position himself invisible within the shadows parallel to the backdoor. Extracting his firearm, now he would lay in waiting—well, _stand_ in waiting, but you get the point.

It was only moments after that he saw Jack shoved roughly out the door, stumbling, fear-stricken, and shaken. He was breathing harshly, frigid air leaving his mouth like gusts of smoke, and it sent a swift, stabbing pain in Mark to see him like this. “Look man, I ‘aven’t even s-seen yer face, okay? I have a wallet, n-no U.S. currency, but I have a card-d. Yeh can take it, just let me go r-right now, and you’ll never get-t caught."

Jack, however, stuttering and terrified with a gun against his back, no longer seemed to be the focus of Avidan's attention. Looking up, Mark had to remind himself to breathe.

Brown eyes full of both mirth and searing ice were staring directly into his like the shadows weren't there giving him cover, like the night wasn't plunged in pitch-black. The eyes held a certain resolve while his smile, wide and almost crazed, was the kind that spoke of a humorous knowledge, one that Mark didn't have the privilege of knowing. And he would be lying if he said it didn't just make his blood _boil_.

Whatever fear he had felt, whatever doubts and uncertainties he had just moments prior, now only severed as energy to this new raw anger he felt surging within him. This new rage that _burned_ under the skin like an only barely contained fire with kerosene in his veins and an inferno seething in his chest. But, he had to control it. Control was, after all, essential. He couldn't give Avidan the satisfaction that he had riled him up to this extent, that he was in anyway fallible to his emotions. He didn't know how Avidan could seemingly see him, but he was done with pretending he wasn't there.

“Long time no see Mr. Avidan, it appears we have some catching up to do." He remained in the shadows staring him down, but still, as soon as he spoke, it was like a light in those cold eyes was only made brighter. “But why with a hostage? Scared you can’t take me on your own?” His eyes didn't dare flicker to Jack, in case Avidan really _could_ see him, hoping against all hope that Avidan had just thought he picked up a random stranger to use as bait to lure out Mark that had no affiliation with the cop.

But, watching the way he raised his right arm up, the one with the gun now pressing forward into the side of the Irishman's head, he simply only remained smiling tightly, like the gesture pained him to keep lifted but it was pure malice that kept it. “The name’s Danny Sexbang to you, _darling_ , and I don't like to repeat myself every time we meet. Don’t want me putting a gun to your soulmate’s head, do you? Hmm, how peculiar...you didn't seem to mind doing it to _mine_.”

“We’re not soulmates," Mark denied instantly. "I don’t even know that man." Withdrawing from his hideaway, his gun aimed square at Avidan's head, he hoped to hell and back that this denial might make a dent in Avidan's confidence.

But Avidan only laughed, bearing the same mock-psychotic grin, his stare enough to freeze hell over. “Aww, don’t try to fool me, Mark. You aren't half as clever as that...I know 'true love' when I see it...”

Mark didn't believe that in the slightest. “This has nothing to do with him. Still pissed that I took your sweetheart to prison, are you? Maybe you should be more careful about who you associate with your business.”

“Says the man bringing his soulmate to a club to catch a criminal.” Avidan smirked with a small tilt of his head before scowling. “And I’m not discussing Arin with you just now. But, perhaps you'd like to see a familiar face, hmm?”

Out of no where he felt a presence behind him he hadn't realized had been there for some time. But just as he began to turn he was ambushed by a man in black, his gun strewn across the cement and arms already iron-clad around him. _Brian Wecht_.

His eyes flew back to Avidan then, just scarcely holding back his fury as he tried to fight against the restricting arms while the asshole chortled. “How the tables have turned, and so suddenly." Smiling again, he _actually_ had the nerve to _pet_ Jack, his hand carding through green. "Now if you don’t do exactly as I say, this _adorable_ little man will die.”

If the silence of the growing blackness of night around them hadn't already been unsettling enough, the sound of Avidan's gun as the safety was clicked off was certainly worse. Mark struggled again, eyes just barely clapping onto fearful blue before Wecht pulled something out of his eyesight and held it close enough to his neck for him to get the picture. But while it ceased his motions for a moment, the impact of fear didn't last.

“You let go of him you piece of shit, he has nothing to do with your bullshit,” Mark growled, completely uncaring of the knife against his throat, knowing whatever Avidan had planned would not result in such an early death for the redhead. For the sadist's tastes, it would be far too _easy._ “You let him go and we’ll talk.” _And by talk I mean put a bullet in your head._

_...okay, that was a bit dark, even for me, but yeah._

“Oh, no, no, no, _I_ am the one in control here, Mark. You do as I say and everyone walks free and unharmed, _including me_.”

Ha. _No._ “Not on my life."

Avidan merely laughed again. “You’re right, not on _your_ life," he pressed his pistol further into Jack's cranium, "on _his_ ,” and it seemed then the Irishman finally had quite enough.

“Alright you pretentious _arsehole,_ get the fook off me, him, and let us go before I—” But Avidan only slapped a hand over his mouth, silencing him. “God, how _exhausting_ you are, I can't fathom how he can stand you," he spoke to Jack, yet still never breaking eye contact with the cop. "Now, Mark, whaddya say? Play by my rules or shall things get a little _messy_?”

Now, Mark wasn't necessarily a _dumb_ man, nor an inept cop, but choosing to not "play along", to of all things remain silent instead of, well, anything else—let's just say that wasn't the _brightest_ of decisions.

Cold eyes only turned colder when angered Mark found, so it shouldn't have really been much of a surprise when the knife pressed further at the column of his throat, making the redhead hold in a hiss at the slight sting it left behind, likely with a red mark he'd be seeing in the morning.

"So what will it be now Mark? This is entirely your choice, and we all know how much choice matters to _you_. I don't know who ratted me out that I'd be here tonight, but I _hate_ unwanted visitors lurking where they shouldn't. And on my day off too, how _rude_.

"You think you're so superior because you're a real 'brave officer of the law', don'tcha Mark? But I know you're still just that scared little boy I remember shaking next to his wounded partner who had no control over _anything._ You've always been way over your head, sweetheart. You've gotten older but you haven't gotten smarter, nor better, and what _luck_ it is that you were foolish enough to think you could catch me this time.

"It's a pity, really, that I can't be paired against someone at least _mildly_ competent enough to pose a real threat. I could kill your soulmate in a quarter of a second...you should be thankful I'm offering you a choice instead. All I need is your cooperation—I go on to do what I came back to this blasted city for, you tell the cops I wasn't here, you give up on any futile investigation that I know you will fail at, and you can All. Just. Leave. How does that sound?"

Mark didn't want to let too many of these words sink in, honestly he didn't, but whether Avidan actually meant everything he was saying, it still hit a little too close home and brought up memories he just didn't have the time or strength to let himself think of just then. Still, for what it was worth, he really didn't think evil villain monologues suited the curly haired bastard too well.

"Enough with the bullshit and games, _Sexbang._ What's the catch? There's always a catch with you, so what is it?"

He watched Avidan smile at the choice of name even if it was said in total sarcasm. "You know me too well, Mark, I have to hand it to you. It's the only thing you're good at, really. I merely need a favor since any chance of your cooperation once I let you go is basically worthless... So here's the short bit of it: I want Arin back. Healthy, and just the way I last saw him before you laid your _vile_ hands on him to drag him away to a place he _never deserved to be in._ That's the only reason I'm here. You didn't actually think I'd leave him after you took him away, did you? All you have to do is simply spring him out of prison unscathed and we'll have no more quarrels to speak of."

 _Hell no_. "You're _insane._ There is no way in _hell_ I'd help get Hanson out of jail for you. I couldn't even if I tried, I'm just a cop, remember? I have no power over that. Why are you relying on me instead of yourself if you seem to think I'm so incompetent?" _Why me?_

"Incompetent you may be but I have my reasons." Avidan held the gun in a less lax position with a dangerous glint overtaking his eyes that spoke as if to say, _why not you?_ "And you _can_ do it, despite your lack of sanction and everything else. I know you'd do just about anything to save an innocent life, whether you believe you're meant to be with them or not. Which is why dear ol' Jackie-boy here will be a _wonderful_ incentive for you to get the job done."

Oh _boy_ , that really did it. All at once, he felt the anger he tried so hard to hold back unsettle and spread through him like wildfire, his lashing words absorbing the flames as he spoke, low, dark and scorching on his tongue, "This is your first and final warning, Avidan...you even so much as _think_ , let alone _try_ , to actually kill him and I swear to God you will never live to see your pathetic lover again."

But he should have known Avidan had no problem playing with fire. "Understand this, _Fischbach,_ and mark my words," he practically snarled, his words ugly, biting, and bitter, his eyes a cold, black licorice, vacant of their once brilliant dark brown. "If _I_ can’t have _my_ soulmate, then, I assure you, neither can _you_ have _yours.”_

With threats said and yet to be done, they stared each other down, ice versus fire, waiting for the other to either melt or go out. But it wasn't just that they were waiting for...and Mark wondered, as he often did, exactly what was going on behind all the ice and malice and painted on smiles, where cogs and wheels turned effortlessly and things were left unsaid and dead. Avidan liked to call himself a bit of a mastermind, which wasn't all that dreadfully far from the truth. Full of schemes and calculations, the German-Korean could hardly read him, and couldn't fathom why he needed Mark to bust Arin out of prison for him either. He wondered this as they stood there, neither one making a move to do anything, as both them and time seemed to at once stand still in a sort of unsustainable quiet. A sort of quiet so easily ripped to shreds in the wake of sirens blaring from the city streets like a damn godsend. _Thank fuck they understood what the fucking tapping meant, jesus christ, why didn't I just tell them to call the cops? That would have been so much easier..._

Jack sighed out a sound of relief and Mark, holding onto his bravado like a life preserver, couldn't help smirking at Avidan.

"Looks like the game's up, Avidan. _You lose._ " _And I won._

Avidan was still quiet, and in that quiet, Mark—lost in his smugness—was filled full of a premature victory. So much so he almost didn't notice, that though he may have been quiet, his expression blank, and while his lips didn't grin, his chilling eyes just seemed to scream, _no you didn't_.

And then Avidan's eyes were closed, his head tipped back as he just laughed and laughed and _laughed._

He laughed so harsh and loud his laughter mixed in with the sirens, making one long shrill noise that made Mark want to cover his ears. He knew this was his opportunity, while Jack was staring at the beast laugh and Wecht behind him was distracted by the noise, to switch things around and gain the upper hand. And, concurrently, his chance to finally end all of this once and for all. It was almost too easy, wrenching himself from the silent man's hold, picking his gun back up, butting the end of it against his head and knocking him down, all in five seconds flat. Then aiming right back at Avidan's head, still laughing and not seeing the turn of events, knowing he could and should and had planned all along to take the head shot and there was no way he could miss this close. His finger was on the trigger, steady, iron, unwavering, and yet...

"Oh, but darling, I'm afraid you don't get it. Can't you see? You have it all wrong..." The self-proclaimed villain grinned to the sky, to that dark void, his eyes still shut so ever dramatically. "This is me just warming up. _The game has only just begun."_

He took the shot.

 

And Jack, likely caught up in the suddenness of it all, screamed.

 

Avidan's arms fell away, letting him fall to a heap on the ground.

 

 ** _His_** blood flowed down, down, down onto the cement...

 

The silence was deafening when Mark's hands finally began to shake.

 

And for a moment, nothing happened, nothing at all.

 

But Mark saw it clear as day what exactly he had done.

 

And it hurt, it hurt _so much._

 

....And yet it was numb just the same.

 

To think, now as his heart flipped and stomach dropped at the same time, just how different it felt from when it had been about Jack.

 

Avidan chuckled bitterly, in pain but not broken. _"Shit..."_

He fell to the ground next, with a bullet in his shoulder, bleeding out all around himself as he laid there, unmoving but not dead. Jack had moved from the body as soon as he fell, and there was nothing to describe the pain and guilt that now unfurled inside him as he saw how truly shaken and rattled he was. Mark felt as if on autopilot again, holstering his gun and moving deftly to the Irishman before helping him up and immediately pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck, are you okay Jack?? I’m so sorry for getting you involved in this…absolute shit of a mission. Christ, what the hell was I _thinking_ , letting you come here?” Mark’s words were weak compared to the strength of the sirens closing in on them as he voiced his guilt and concerns all at once. He clutched the Irishman closer to his chest, then, when his arms felt slack and Mark didn't know if it was wise to let go just yet. They were both trembling for a while, their strange embrace both comforting and supporting of weight.

“Yeah, Mark, I’m-I’m fine," he stumbled over his words, eyes wide and dazed, a deep blue against a backdrop of darkness. The warning bells were back, the part of his mind that screamed of chaos and fear of the unknown. And Mark was starting to get it, why he had compared Jack's eyes so often to the ocean, for that's what he saw now. That's what the ocean was to him, something beautiful and terrifying and utterly out of his control. As he stared back with brown eyes just as wide, transfixed, drawn out from the shores and drowning in it all, entirely stranded. And he didn't know whether he was okay or not about it, but at the same time there was something peaceful about them that he couldn't begin to name. A calmness in the waves, in the push and pull of the tides like gravity.

But, wishing to stay grounded, he looked away, peering over the smaller man's shoulder to see both a seizing and enraging sight.

And it was like he was back suddenly in his cruiser driving here, that same fear creeping up that made him barely able to function, just now full of a fuming anger along with the tension. He let go of Jack, having the Irishman wave away his concerns with a nod of his head before leaving him be. Cursing under his breath, his eyes searched behind and all around himself in a near frenzy just to still come up with nothing. No one. _They're gone, they're fucking_ gone. _Shit. Shit. How...how will I tell the department? How will I tell Ken?_

"—ark, Mark! Officer Fischbach, please, c'mon," a voice came from his right side. He turned to see a raven fringe paired with glasses framing pale blue eyes, almost a blur. "Mark, you have to tell me what happened," officer Lester spoke with great haste, but everything just seemed to be going so slow for Mark, "Where did he go? Can you hear me? Can you tell me which way he went?"

"They," he said slowly, thickly, but the other cop looked confused. So, swallowing, he told him everything that happened, how everything went wrong and how he didn't see where they went. As he spoke, he saw a swarm of cops now piling into the alleyway as his vision cleared enough from the fear and rage. Phil said he would have to give a written report later and now he could see clearly the worry on his face before Mark managed to convince him that he fine enough to continue performing his duties as he should. As a brave officer of the law, certainly, would.

When he walked away, Mark looked over with a heavy sigh to where Jack was now seated in the back of an ambulance, likely to get examined over and questioned. He couldn't bring himself to go over to him, to look him in his eyes like that again, so instead he just stood there for a long moment and surveyed the fresh crime scene. Already there were some other cops beginning to seal off the place while others were undoubtedly searching the perimeter and surrounding area for Avidan. And yet, even with LA's finest on high alert scouring the city, Mark knew they'd never find him. If there was one thing Avidan was good at beyond stealing and deceiving for a living, it was being able to disappear without a trace. Still, Mark stood there in the midst of bloodshed and shadows, scanning the alley with the trained eyes of a wannabe, now not so likely-to-be, detective. There wasn't much he could do until forensics got there, but he had to push away the anxiety and any other emotion that lingered for a moment to hone in on anything else. 

What he was looking for most was a possible avenue of escape. But the alleyway was surrounded by cops, they had been closing in when Mark shot him, when Avidan fell, how could he and Wecht possibly evaded them?

The backdoor of the club was only accessible by either key or from the inside, the other brick wall having no exit or entrance. There was no way, no possible way that they coul—abruptly, as he wandered along the edge of the shadows he had hid in, he felt something under the sole of his left shoe. Crouching to the ground he was just able to make out what it was.

A chess piece, a black pawn, and, beneath it, a note.

> Dear Mark,
> 
> So, it seems the game starts up once again as you take one of my Pawns and you already have my Queen behind bars. Congratulations...I guess that makes it my move, doesn't it? Such a shame, really, you should have taken me up on my offer. But, no matter, this is more fun after all, wouldn't you say? It appears we're no longer at a stalemate, same rules apply as last time: all's fair in love and war, right? And now it's even fairer—two Queens instead of one this time, _what possibilities!_ I hope you look forward to what comes next, I think things will just go _swimmingly._ Ninja Brian and I must be off for now, but he sends his highest regards, as do I. May the _best_ man win, of course.
> 
> Sincerely,
> 
> D.S.

Mark felt all the air leave his lungs at once, but it wasn't really because of what the note said, because that hardly mattered, just taunting words, teasing letters, it hardly mattered at all on its own.

No, it was much rather the fact that the note, in all its bold, crisp, laminated glory, was _printed_.

_The smug bastard...He knew. He knew **everything.**_

Mark's legs felt weak, suddenly, as it all dawned on him in that moment, like he was God and hadn't noticed the earth's extra tilt as it balanced precariously on its axis before him, just seconds from toppling over.

_He knew, he god damn_ knew _I would be here tonight. He was out in the open when the eyewitness saw him...he would never, never in a million years have let himself be spotted unless he wanted to be...._

It made his head spin, like both he and the world were just one last push from falling. He could just picture Avidan's grinning, mocking, _laughing_ face and his cold eyes that _knew._

 _And...and fuck...he knew about Jack before we even got here, how else would he have known of "two Queens"? He planned this all. He_ expected _me to be here. He...he looked into the shadows, waiting...he_ knew _this would happen. He knew I wouldn't take him up on his offer to help him. He knew I...would shoot him. He_ let _me..._

Mark looked back over at where Jack was, now with a blanket around him and a medic on standby. The perfect picture of a victim, and it _killed him_ to think he could have been dead that night and beneath a white sheet already on his way to a hospital or morgue instead. To think Mark really never had the upper hand at any point, that if Avidan wanted to switch up his plans he could have at any time and Mark wouldn't have had any say in it at all. Mark truly had no control and that was nothing short of terrifying in every kind of way.

_And I didn't take the head shot. I could have. I could have_ so _easily._

There had been nothing holding Mark back after he broke Wecht's hold and he should have ended it all, he should have done his best to save Jack. Avidan was distracted—or, at least, Mark _thought_ he had been. In all his gloating and laughter, he had _every_ opportunity...every _reason_ to take the shot. But...in the moment...when it came down to it...he just _couldn't._

He choked. He faltered. And he knew Dan knew the reason why.

The redhead chuckled brokenly, a bitter, melancholy timbre, as he crumbled up the note in a trembling fist. He was an utter fool, he had missed the shot... _again._

He wouldn't make that mistake a third time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this wasn't too boring to read through since it is a rehash of the last chapter, but I also hope Mark's POV gave some better insight into things regarding Danny cause the main point of this was to see how Mark thought of everything. I kept a lot of things in the dark, still, even from his perspective, but this was purposefully done, so if you're somewhat confused it's to be expected. If you have any questions feel free to leave a comment of them, I probably won't give any spoilers but I will do my best to clear up any confusion if needed. 
> 
> Comments of any kind are always appreciated still, so if you have time I'd love to read anything y'all would like to say. Thank you guys so much for reading and have a great rest of your day~ 
> 
> \----------Oh, and because I forgot to mention in the last chapter, you can thank _CabiriaDevil_ for the club name!----------


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